In Miss Eliza Cook’s Poem “Old Cries” she sings in no feeble strain the praises of the old man of her youthful days, who cried—“Merry and free as a marriage bell”:—
Young Lambs to Sell.
| There was a man in olden time, And a troubador was he; Whose passing chant and lilting rhyme Had mighty charms for me. My eyes grew big with a sparkling stare, And my heart began to swell, When I heard his loud song filling the air About “Young lambs to sell!” His flocks were white as the falling snow, With collars of shining gold; And I chose from the pretty ones “all of a row,” With a joy that was untold. Oh, why did the gold become less bright, Why did the soft fleece lose its white, And why did the child grow old? ’Twas a blithe, bold song the old man sung; The words came fast, and the echoes rung, Merry and free as “a marriage bell;” And a right, good troubadour was he, For the hive never swarmed to the chinking key, As the wee things did when they gathered in glee To his musical cry—“Young lambs to sell!” Ah, well-a-day! it hath passed away, With my holiday pence and my holiday play— I wonder if I could listen again, As I listened then, to that old man’s strain— All of a row—“Young lambs to sell.” |
The London Barrow-Woman.
| Round and sound, Two-pence a pound. Cherries, rare ripe cherries! Cherries a ha’penny a stick Come and pick! come and pick! Cherries big as plums! who comes, who comes. |
The late George Cruikshank, whose pencil was ever distinguished by power of decision in every character he sketched, and whose close observation of passing men and manners was unrivalled by any artist of his day, contributed the “London Barrow-woman” to the pages of Hone’s Every-Day Book in 1826 from his own recollection of her.
