THE MORAL OF THE PIG.

A BALLAD FOR GROWN-UP CHILDREN.

I.

0 sages ! 0 sages!

Whose wits are all at strife To put in formal pages

Some settled law for life,—

Who seek in creeds concrete and clear, By rules rotund and big, To fix the souls of mortals, hear The Moral of the Pig.

There was a little maiden,

Rear'd in a City street,

A tiny and tender spirit, With dreamy eyes and sweet ; Such seeds are scatter'd night and day By the soft wind front heaven, And in the poorest human clay Have taken root and thriven.

IH.

All in a bleak December, When snow lay deep and still, A silence took the dwelling, The little maid fell ill ; And when the danger passed away, With little sobs and cries She tost and slept, or waking lay, With open dreamy eyes.

IV.

Then all that love could measure Was wrought to ease her lot, And mother yearn'd to take her To some green country spot,— For frail she lay, with hueless cheeks And hungry eyes apart, In that wild mood when nature seeks An anchor for the heart. 0 wan, and weak, and weary !

Feeling a cold wind blow, Between two worlds she fiutter'd, As if in act to go.

'fill suddenly the little one Grew bright and wonder-fraught, For to her by a neighbour's son The little Pig was brought.

VI.

New-born, and like a baby, With coat as soft as silk, As tiny as a rabbit, As fresh and white as milk ;

With tiny twinkling eye, and wee Pink ears like shells o' pearl,—

And Polly shriek'd with fun to see His tail with such a curl.

0 all the sweets of nature Came running to the room,— "I was like a rush of west wind Fresh from beds of bloom.

What need of country dales and della To make her strong and big ?

The soul that makes the buds and bells Had enter'd with the Pig.

Then all the soul of Polly, After the bright surprise, Was bent to rear the stranger, And make it clean and wise ; "And I will make it beautiful, And wash it every day, And it shall follow me to school, And join me when I play."

She wash'd its white skin daily, With water and with soap, It learnt to know and love her, And answer'd all her hope ; She eased her heart with tender care,

She brighten'd day by day,—

For a sweet wind from heaven was there To blow her cares away !

x.

0 sages! 0 sages!

I hear you say enough, You ransack all the ages, And scorn such silly stuff ; Yet not the less into that place The Pig brought wonders fair, Made all earth green, and Polly's face

Sweet as with country air.

XI.

Yet human bliss fades quickly, Life's curse was on the Pig, The more the kind hand nursed it, It fatten'd and grew big ; Its feet went heavier in and out, Its face grew double-chin'd,— It tried to follow her about, But soon grew short of wind.

mt.

Then it became full certain The Pig must have a sty, And for the sake of Polly They built it one hard by ; And there the pig grew gross and fat,

Fell back on piggish ways,—

Yet in the sty the maiden sate, And played with it for days.

xitt.

Alas ! for human wishes, Life's shadow reached the place,— The pig grew piggish-temper'd, Forgetting Polly's face ; And soon so gross and great he grew, So full of piggish strife, A dreadful man in apron blue Was called to take his life.

my.

Alt ! bitterly wept Polly, For many and many a day, The light, the sense of nature, Sicken'd and slipt away ; The light that made her nature grow

Fled from the sunless street,—

The wind front heaven ceased to blow That made her soul so sweet.

xv.

0 sages ! 0 sages !

There is a moral deep, Your scientific pages

Have made the simple weep,—

Beware to make our joys too bare, Our faith too fixed and clear, Lest, for the play of light and air, You give us Pigs to rear.

xv I.

0 sages ! 0 sages !

The moral is for ye.

Go, ransack all the ages, And let us wander free ;— But if at last in ecstacy You fix your doctrines big,

And bring your new-born certainty,—

Be sure 'tis not a Pm.