TO ELLEN AND WILLIE.

By Thomas Cowherd

Ellen, my prattler dear,

Willie, my darling boy,

My children need not fear,

They shall my gift employ.

To you, by great neglect,

I have no rhyme addressed.

This you would scarce expect,

So much you've been caressed.

For it I now will try

To make amends quite ample,

And trust the time is nigh

When you can read this sample.

Ellen, I think I see

That thou resemblest mother;

Thou'rt not so much like me

As Willie, thy young brother.

One thing I wish you both,

That you in your behaviour

Like her, may not be loath

To follow Christ, the Saviour.

For never have I seen

One of a lovelier spirit;

No mortals do, I ween,

Such loveliness inherit.

She was of temper mild,

Was often smiling sweetly,

In malice was a child,

As a Christian walked discreetly.

To have this said of you

Would give your father pleasure.

It would be worth, if true,

To me a world of treasure.

So Ellen, prattler dear,

Willie, my darling boy,

While father's stay is here,

O, fill his heart with joy.

As soon as you can read,

Peruse the Bible's page,

And to your ways take heed

As you advance in age.

Then to the Savior fly,

Who, only, you can save

From woes that never die,

In death beyond the grave.

That we may meet at last

In Heaven, that happy place,

When every storm is past,

To view our Jesus’ face.