The Keepsake / or, Poems and Pictures for Childhood and Youth

LONDON: PRINTED FOR DARTON, HARVEY, AND DARTON, 55, GRACECHURCH-STREET. 1818.

Richard, come and play with me, Underneath the willow tree; Sitting in its peaceful shade, We'll sing the song papa has made, Whilst its drooping branches spread, Stretching far above our head, Sweetly tempering the blaze Of the sun's meridian rays. There the rose and violet blow, The lily with her bell of snow, And the richly scented woodbine, Round about its trunk doth twine; There the busy bee shall come, And gather sweets to carry home. Oh, how happy we shall be, Underneath the willow tree!
Mary, raise that sleepy head, For the lark doth carol high, And the sun has left his bed— Mary, ope that sleepy eye.
Come, and let me wash you clean, Brush your hair and tie your frock; There's your sister Geraldine, Waiting at the mossy rock.

Hark! the little chicken's cries, Loudly call for Mary's care, But if the sluggard will not rise, George their breakfast shall prepare.
Who shall get the fresh-laid egg, To place beside her father's cup? Who shall pour the tea, I beg, If my Mary is not up?
Come, little Mary, come to me, And say your lesson on my knee, Your book is there, the pointer in it, All ready to begin this minute.
What! pout your lip, and scream and cry, And say, I won't, I can't: —Oh fie! Then go, and in that corner stay, Till sobs and tears have pass'd away; Till you can come with voice more mild, And say, Mamma, forgive your child.
What little girl is this, whose eyes Smile through her tears, while thus she cries? My dear mamma, I love you, pray Forgive your child, and let me say My lesson, standing at your knee, Then give a kind sweet kiss to me. It is my Mary! now her look Is turn'd attentive to her book, And now her lesson she has read, Her task without a fault has said, Mamma's best kiss she now has won, So well her lessons she has done: