POETRY.

DR. HEINRICH HOFFMANN, AUTHOR OF " STRUWWELPETER."

B. 1809; d. 1894.

So quietly he walked the earth Made brighter by his kindling mirth, So gently, that in England few Knew that he lived at all, or knew That Heinrich Hoffmann's was the brain Whence Struwwelpeter sprang amain.

And now the cunning hand is still : The old man rests beneath the hill.* Benignant, sunny-hearted sage, Thank thee for Struwwelpeter's page !

Thou sent'st that tousled bantling forth, And straight from east, west, south, and north, A peal of merry laughter rose Whose joyous volume ever grows.

He conquers all along the line, This scapegrace moralist of thine, And not till children cease to be Will Peter cease from victory.

Such tragic poems would have won Old Aristotle's benison; For truly none were ever penn'd That could more thoroughly amend By fear and pity (laughingly) The passions of the nursery.

Thy pencil, too,—with what a force It shadowed Nemesis her course !

Who that once saw, can e'er forget The cats which mourned for Harriet, With eyes so grievously attacked By all the pains of cataract?

Or Peter's own despondent form?

Or Robert's very local storm?

Or who without a thrill can scan The awful "red-legged scissors man " P Thy Peter was a beacon-light To guide my erring steps aright ; For what deters me from the fun Of mocking Afrio's ebon son, (A kind of sport to which my mind Is naturally much inclined), But recollection of the ill Befalling Arthur, Ned, and Will? Did not Augustus pine and droop Through his antipathy to soup, A cross like his would surely mark The spot where I lay stiff and stark; And were it not that cruel Fred Consumed unpleasant drugs in bed, I should, I feel it, every day Defy the R.S.P.C.A.

This wish for thee, then, Mentor rare Of little people everywhere :

May the earth lightly on thee lie,

May " Struwwelpeter " never die !

E. V. L.