The new North-west. [volume] (Deer Lodge, Mont.) 1869-1897, 1875-11-19
POETRY
FRIAR PHILIP.

Poor Friar Philip losI his wife,
The charm and comfort of his life;
He Iemourned her just like modern men,
For ladies were worth having then.
The world was altered III his view,
All things put on yellow hue:
Even ladies. once his chief delight,
Were now offensive to his sight;
In short, he pined and looked so i'll,
The doctor hoped to make bill
AT last he made vow to fly,
And hide himself from every eye;
Take mp his lodgings in a wood,
To turn hermit and grow good.
He had a son now YOU IL ust know.
About a twelvem onth old or so;
Him Philip took mp in his arms,
To snatch him from all female charms,
Intending he should never know
Therc,were such things as girls below,
But lead an homes, hernit's life,
Lest he, likewise. might lose his wife.
The place lie chose for his retreat
Was opce lions country seat.
Far i'll wild romantic wood,
The helmit's little cottage stood.
Hid by IT, trees rom human view;
The sun himself could scarce get through.
A little garden, titled with care,
Supplied them with their da''v fare
Fresh watercres. es from the spring.
Turnlps, or green's, or some such thing,
Helmits don't care much what they eat,
An appetite can make it sweet!
II was here our little hermit grew:
His father taught HIM all he knew.
Adapting like cheerful sage,
His lessons to the pupils age.
At five years old he showed him flowers,
Taught him their various names and powers
Taught him to blow upon reed,
To say his prayers and get the creed.
AT ten he lectuled him on herbs
Better learning than nouns and verbs)
The names and quality of trees,
Manners and customs of the bees;
They talked of o3 sters full Of pearls,
But not one wo about the girls
At fifteen years he turned his eyes
To view the wonders of the skies;
Called all the stars by their right names,
AS you would call on John or james:
And showed him al the signs above,
But not whisper about love.
And now his sixteenth year was nigh,
And yet he had not lear1 ed to sigh;
Had sleep and appetite to spare;
He cou d not tell the name OF care:
And all because he did not know
There were such things as girls below
But now tempest ragged around,
The hermiTs little nest was drowned
Good by, then, to poor Philips crop;
1t did not leave trtnip top.
Poor Philip grieved, and his son too;
They prayed they knew mol what to do
Ii they were hermits, they must live;
And wolves have not much aims to give.
Now, in his native town be knew
He had disc'p'es-ricA ones, too
Who word not let him beg in vain
But set the hermit up again.
But what to do with his young SON
Pray tell me- what would you have done?
Take him to town he was AFRAID.
Fer what if he should see a maid!
In love- as sure as he had eyes
Leave him at home? The wolves, the bears
Poor Philip had fathers fears,
In short, he knew not what to do,
But thought. at last to lake him, too;
And so, with truly pious care,
He counts his beads in anxious prayer,
Intended as sort OF charm
TO keep his darling lad from harm;
That is, from pretty ladies Wiles,
Especially their eyes and srnileg.
Then brushed his coat of silver gray;
And now you see them on their way.
1t was town, they all agree,
Where there was everything TO see,
As paintings, statues and SO on,
All that men love to look upon.
Oar iittle lad. you may suppose,
Had never seen SO many shows;
He stands with open mouth and eyes,
Like one jrst fallen from the skies;
Pointing at everything he see1--
"What's this? what's that? Oh, what are thesef
At lasi he spies charming thing
That men call angel when they sing
Young lady when they speak in prose-
Sweet thing! as everybody knows.
Transported. ravished at the sight,
He feels strange. but sweet, delight.
Whats this! what this! Oh hesgeps!" he cries
g That looks SO sweetly with its eyes;
oh shall catch it Is it lame?
What is it, father, what's its name?'
Poor Philip know not what to lay,
He ed to tur1 his eyes away.
He crossed himself and made VOW
"Ther, pr ythee bave thy wits ley loose?
1t is a bird men ca | a goose"
"a goose !! opre- ~, pretty thing!
And will it sing. too, viii it sing?
o come, cone quickly. Jet us run;
Tha + good father, ctch me one!
Wen take it with us to our cell,
Indeed. indeed, Eli love it well !"