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And close besides the corner
There stood an old stone well,
Which caught a mimic waterfall,
That warbled as it fell.
The cat, crouched on the well-worn steps,
Was blinking in the sun;
The birds sang out a welcome
To the morning just begun.
An air of peace and happiness
Pervaded all the scene;
The tall trees formed a back ground
Of rich and varied green;
And all was steeped in quietness,
Save nature's music wild,
When all at once, methought I heard
The sobbing of a child.
I listened, and the sound again
Smote clearly on my ear:
"Can there,"--I wondering asked myself--
"Can there be sorrow here?"--
I looked within, and on the floor
Was sat a little boy,
Striving to soothe his sister's grief
By giving her a toy.
"Why weeps your sister thus?" I asked;
"What is her cause of grief?
Come tell me, little man," I said,
"Come tell me, and be brief."
Clasping his sister closer still,
He kissed her tear-stained face,
And thus, in homely Yorkshire phrase,
He told their mournful case.


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