THE PUBLIC PERFORMANCE OF A FEMALE DWARF.
(Written in her fifteenth year.)

Helpless, unprotected, weary,
Toss'd upon the world's wide sea,
Borne from those I love most dearly,
Say — dost thou not feel for me?

Who that hath shrunk 'neath nature's frown
Would court false fortune's fickle smile?
Oh, who would wander thus alone,
Reckless alike of care or toil?

Who would, for fading pleasure, brave
The sea of troubles, dark and deep?
For lo! the gems which deck the wave
Vanish, and 'leave the wretch to weep.'

'T was not for fortune's smile of light,
Which beams but to destroy for ever;
'T was not for pleasure's bubbles bright,
Which dazzle still, deluding ever:

Oft have I falter'd when alone
Before the crowd I sung my lay,
But ah, a father's feeble moan
Rung in my ears, I dared not stay.

Oh, I have borne pride's scornful look,
And burning taunts from slander's tongue;
Yet more of malice I could brook,
E'en though my heart with grief was wrung.

Adieu! a long — a last adieu —
Once more I launch upon life's sea;
But still shall memory turn to you,
For, stranger, you have felt for me.