62
poems.
LETTER FROM THE COUNTRY.
(Written at the age of 16.)
Dear sister, I steal a short time,
Having now rock'd the baby asleep,
To write you a letter in rhyme,
('Tis a secret I beg you will keep!)
Having now rock'd the baby asleep,
To write you a letter in rhyme,
('Tis a secret I beg you will keep!)
That R———s a very fine place,
I will not pretend to deny;
A very fine man is Judge C———;
Of others I'll write by-and-by.
I will not pretend to deny;
A very fine man is Judge C———;
Of others I'll write by-and-by.
Maria and I often walk out,
Which 'I guess' the 'folks think' 'pretty strange';
They talk of it much, there's no doubt,
As they think all are idle who range.
Which 'I guess' the 'folks think' 'pretty strange';
They talk of it much, there's no doubt,
As they think all are idle who range.
But we always walk'd out when at home,
And are all "doing use" through the day;
Oh, sure it is right thus to roam,
As at evening alone do we stray?
And are all "doing use" through the day;
Oh, sure it is right thus to roam,
As at evening alone do we stray?
I'm delighted with all the fine views;
The hills, and the valleys, and trees;
Indeed I see much to amuse,
Of which I will write, if you please.
The hills, and the valleys, and trees;
Indeed I see much to amuse,
Of which I will write, if you please.
