  "Bring me my breakfast instantly," Th' impatient Julia said; It came—"'Tis meal, 'tis nasty meal, When I had order'd bread!" She tastes:—"Oh, it is burnt," she cried, "Pray take it all away, And bring some fresh, and quickly too, Nor keep me here all day." Her mother passing near the door, O'erheard her loud commands, And entering, met the maid, who held The breakfast in her hands. "Julia, what shameful words are those! What shameful conduct too! The milk is good, too good for those Who ask and speak like you. "From Betty now your breakfast take, And drink it, if you choose, And beg that she your haughtiness And passion will excuse. "What! silent and perverse become? Then, Betty, you may go And give the milk to that poor girl Who's in the yard below. "She spins or labours hard all day, Yet eats the coarsest food; She's thankful for the smallest gift, And smiles, because she's good. And brow o'erhung with gloom, May, if you please, from hence retire, And stay in your own room. "No breakfast you will have to-day, Nor need again appear, Till from your brow you chase that frown, And from your eye the tear. "Till you can come with cheerful mien, And pardon ask from me; Then, if you are a better girl, Forgiven you may be." |
|
