("The 400 children of the Foundling Hospital will leave the buildings in Guilford-street this afternoon to go into summer camp before being lodged in a temporary school in the country."—@3The Times, June@1 24, 1926.) Farewell, little groundlings! Lamb's conduit must grieve, To think that the Foundlings Must pack up and leave, So firm were you rooted, So safe did you seem, While no one disputed Your right to my stream. But realms believed wealthy Turn out to be poor, And places once healthy Are thought so no more. At least that's the reason They give me to-day: To me 'tis like treason To take you away, When he who caressed you Lies under the shade Where Handel's art blessed you, And Hogarth's pourtrayed, And I gave you water— More pure I had none— And laved you, my daughter, And slaked you, my son. Brown coats and white aprons! I think I'll go dry, So weakly my tap runs, This day of goodbye. Good-bye, little Foundlings! I envy the rill That nurtures the groundlings That grow on Red Hill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THIS COMPOST: 1. by WALT WHITMAN MONODY ON THE DEATH OF WENDELL PHILLIPS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE BIRDS: THE HYMN OF THE BIRDS by ARISTOPHANES THE CHURCH OF BROU by MATTHEW ARNOLD SPRING COURAGE by MADELINE BENEDICT IN THE NIGHT by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |