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IV

But here is a beautiful piece of poetry, so like reality, that the scene is easily pictured as we read - It's the death of Little Jim.

The Cottage was a thatch'd one, the outside old and mean,(It's condition)Yet everything within that Cot was wondrous neat and clean
The night was dark and stormy, the wind was howling wild
A patient mother watch'd beside the deathbed of her child,
A little worn out creature, his once bright eyes grown dim,
It was a Cottier's wife and child, they called him little Jim.
And oh to see the briny tear fall down that mother's cheek,
As she offer'd up a prayer - in thought - she was afraid to speak,
Lest she might 'waken one she lov'd much better than her life
For she had all a Mother's heart, had that poor Cottier's wife.
With hands uplifted, see, she kneels beside the sufferer's bed,
And prays that God would spare her boy, and take herself instead,
She got her answer from the boy - soft fell the words from him.

[left margin] (The place).

[left margin] (It's condition)

[left margin] (The weather)

[left margin] (The ocasion)

[left margin] (The object)

[left margin] The mother's emotion }

[left margin] The true mother }