is time, vor bed or bwoard.

LULLABY.

The rook's nest do rock on the tree-top
Where vew foes can stand;
The martin's is high, an' is deep
In the steep cliff o' zand.
But thou, love, a-sleepen where vootsteps
Mid come to thy bed,
Hast father an' mother to watch thee
An' shelter thy head.
Lullaby, Lilybrow. Lie asleep;
Blest be thy rest.

An' zome birds do keep under ruffen
Their young vrom the storm,
An' zome wi' nest-hoodens o' moss
And o' wool, do lie warm.
An' we wull look well to the houseruf
That o'er thee mid leaek,
An' the blast that mid beaet on thy winder
Shall not smite thy cheaek.
Lullaby, Lilibrow. Lie asleep;
Blest be thy rest.

MEARY-ANN'S CHILD.

Meary-Ann wer alwone wi' her beaeby in eaerms,
In her house wi' the trees over head,
Vor her husban' wer out in the night an' the storms,
In his business a-tweilen vor bread;
An' she, as the wind in the elems did roar,
Did grievy vor Robert all night out o' door.

An' her kinsvo'k an' nai'bours did zay ov her chile,
(Under the high elem tree),
That a prettier never did babble or smile
Up o' top ov a proud mother's knee;
An' his mother did toss en, an' kiss en, an' call
En her darlen, an' life, an' her hope, an' her all.

But she vound in the evenen the chile werden well,
(Under the dark elem tree),
An' she thought she could gi'e all the worold to tell,
Vor a truth what his ailen mid be;
An' she thought o'en last in her prayers at night,
An' she look'd at en last as she put out the light.

An' she vound en grow wo'se in the dead o' the night,
(Under the dark elem tree),
An' she press'd en ageaen her warm bosom so tight,
An' she rock'd en so sorrowfully;
An' there laid a-nestlen the poor little bwoy,
Till his struggles grew weak, an' his cries died awoy.

An' the moon wer a-sheenen down into the pleaece,
(Under the dark elem tree),
An' his mother could zee that his lips an' his feaece
Wer so white as cleaen axen could be;
An' her tongue wer a-tied an' her still heart did zwell,
Till her senses come back wi' the vu'st tear that vell.

Never mwore can she veel his warm feaece in her breast,
(Under the green elem tree),
Vor his eyes be a-shut, an' his hands be at rest,
An' he's now vrom his pain a-zet free;
Vor his soul, we do know, is to heaven a-vle