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Poor Little Children
by [?]

(“La femelle! elle est morte.”)

[Bk. I. xiii., Jersey, February, 1853.]

Mother birdie stiff and cold,
Puss has hushed the other’s singing;
Winds go whistling o’er the wold,–
Empty nest in sport a-flinging.
Poor little birdies!

Faithless shepherd strayed afar,
Playful dog the gadflies catching;
Wolves bound boldly o’er the bar,
Not a friend the fold is watching–
Poor little lambkins!

Father into prison fell,
Mother begging through the parish;
Baby’s cot they, too, will sell,–
Who will now feed, clothe and cherish?
Poor little children!