SELECT POETRY.

New Zealander, Volume 9, Issue 728, 6 April 1853, Page 3

SELECT POETRY.

•■SHE TOY OF THE GIANT'S CHILD. [From the G?rman of H. R. H: Prince Albert.] It is the lofty Inselberg—a mountain high and strong— Where once a noble castle stood—the giants held it long ; lis very ruins now are lost, its site is waste and lone, . .. And if he looks for giants there, they are all dead and gone. The giant's daughter once came forth, the castle gate before, And played with all a child's delight before her father's door; Then sauntering down the precipice, the girl would gladly go, To see, perchance, how matters went in the little world below. With few and hasty steps she passed the mountain and the wood At length approaching near the place where dwelt mankind, she stood; And many a town and village fair, and many a field so green, Before her wonderingjeycs appealed, a strange and curious scene , And as she gazed, in wonder lost, on all the scenes aronnd, She saw a peasant at her feet a tilling of the ground; The little creature crawled about go slowly here and there, And, lighted by the morning sun, his plough shone out so fair. i 'Oh, pretty plaything!" cries the child, "I'll take thee home with me." Then with her infant hands she spread her kerchief on her knee, And cradling man, and horse, and plough, so gently on her arm. She bore them home quite cautiously, afraid to do them harm. She hastes with joyous steps and glad (we know what children are), And spying soon her father out, she shouted from afar—"Oh, father! dearest father, what a plaything I have found! I never saw so fair a one upon our mountain ground!''' Her father sat at table then, and' drank, his wine so mild, And smiling with a parent's smile, he asked the happy child'— " What struggling creature hast thou brought so carefully to me t> Thou leap'st for very joy, my girl! come, open, let us see !" She oped her kerchief cautiously and gladly, you may deem, And showed her eager sire the plough, the peasant and bis team; And when she'd placed before his sight the new-found pretty toy, She clasped her hands, and screamed aloud, and cried for very joy- . But her father looked quite seriously, and shaking slow his head, " What hast thou brought me here, my girl T—this is no toy," he said. " Go, take it to the vale again, and put it down below: The peasant is no plaything child! how could'st thou think him so? So go, without a sigh or sob, and do my will," he said : " For know without the peasant, girl, we none of us had bread; 'Tis from the peasant's hardy stock the race of giants aie— The peasant is no plaything, child—no, God forbid he were I"