The Changeling

One day in nummer' glow, ffot many year ugo, A littlo baby lay upon my knee, With ring of silkon hnr, And flngpra waxen fair, Tiny and eoft and pink s pink coala be. Wo watohert it tbrivc and grow,- Ah me ! we loved it ,- And marked lts dail y puin of pweotcl oharma ; It lesrnei to lnugh and crow, And play, and kis ui- 80- Untll ono day we missed it f rom our arma. In midden, fltrange Burpriao Wc mot nach othor's oyes, Aaking, " Wbo tolo our pretty babo away t We qut'stioned earth and air, But, socking ovcrywhere. We never found it from that summer day. Bat in iU wonted place There was anothcr fjice, A little girl witli yt'llow-sui ly hsir A bout her Bhouldere toised, - And the wset babe wo lost Seemed eometimes looking from her eyes 80 fair. Slie dancos, romps, aodaings, And doe hundred things Which my lost baby never tried to do ; Bhe lonira to read in books, And with bright, eager lookn Is alwaye asking questions strauge and naw. And I can scarcely teil, I love tho rogue so well, Whether I would retrace tho fonr-year's track Aml loae the merry sprito Who iiwikoa my home uo bright, To have tigain my little baby back. Ah, blue-oyea! doyouaee ' Who stole my baba from me, And brought tho littlo girl from fairy elimo t A gray old nuin with winga, MHto steals all precioue thingi - He lires forevor, and his name is time. Ho ralos the world, they say He took my babe away - My precious babe - and left me in its placo This littlo maidon fair, 'ith yellow-curly hair, Who lÏTCs on stories, and whoso name íb Grace I ïepicïtganrgïrs