ow) till a minute or two before the corpse
was removed. Barbara Lewthwaite was not in fact the child whom I had
seen and overheard as described in the poem. I chose the name for
reasons implied in the above; and here will add a caution against the
use of names of living persons. Within a few months after the
publication of this poem, I was much surprised, and more hurt, to find
it in a child's school book, which, having been compiled by Lindley
Murray, had come into use at Grasmere School where Barbara was a pupil;
and, alas! I had the mortification of hearing that she was very vain of
being thus distinguished; and, in after life she used to say that she
remembered the incident, and what I said to her upon the occasion.--I.
F.]

Included among the "Poems referring to the Period of Childhood."--Ed.

The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink;
I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!"
And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied
A snow white mountain-lamb with a Maiden at its side.

Nor sheep nor kine [1] were near; the lamb was all alone, 5
And by a slender cord was tethered to a stone;
With one knee on the grass did the little Maiden kneel,
While to that mountain-lamb she gave its evening meal.

The lamb, while from her hand he thus his supper took,
Seemed to feast with head and ears; and his tail with pleasure shook.
"Drink, pretty creature, drink," she said in such a tone
That I almost received her heart into my own.

'Twas little Barbara Lewthwaite, a child of beauty rare!
I watched them with delight, they were a lovely pair.
Now with her empty can the Maiden turned away: 15
But ere ten yards were gone her footsteps did she stay.

Right towards the lamb she looked; and from a shady place [2]
I unobserved could see the workings of her face:
If Nature to her tongue could measured numbers bring,
Thus, thought I, to her lamb that little Maid might sing: 20

"What ails thee, young One? what? Why pull so at thy cord?
Is it not well with thee? well both for bed and board?
Thy plot of grass is soft, and green as grass can be;
Rest, little young One, rest; what is't that aileth thee?

"What is it thou wouldst seek? What is wanting to thy heart? 25
Thy limbs are they not strong? And beautiful thou art:
This grass is tender grass; these flowers they have no peers;
And that green c