THE TRIBUNE.

From the London Literary Gazette.
FACTORY CHILDREN.
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HEAR We, who kindly pity teel,
Thr factory chldren's loud appeal,


With nallid cheek and sunken eye,
O,erwearied, still their tasks they ply
All sad DER childhood's opening flower
The tempest-clouds so early lower,
And cas-, the blight OF to!i and gloom
Where 10y and hope should galy bloom
The rosy morn, with dewy wings,
For them renewed exertons brings;
TIE shade OF evening finds them still
Fa,igued within the tedious mil.


Immortal beings, formed 10 rise


In thought beyond the spangled skies;
They re doomed TO toll the lvelong day
Then sink in premature decay.
When, bursting from the mortal clay,
Th' undying spirits pass away,
Oh, let them not depart unblest,
BY with'ring ignorance depress'd;
With souls unclad, with minds untanght,
(How fearful is the awful thought y
To stand before His judgment throne,
Who was TO them God unknown"
Ye say-the church, the schools, invite,
To guide their youthful ways arIght
Bnt crushed beneath Oppression's sway,
How can they Duty's voice obey?
The weary frames require repose,
The Sabbath. day alone bes,ows-
Oh, chided be each cold delay,
Lfe's precious sueamlet ebbs away,
Then pity grant, that all may feel
The factory children's sad, appeal;
IT is sounded in the Senate's ear,
BY one whose virtues all revere;
The champion of the helpless throng,
The friend OF all who suffer wrong,
What, though awhile his efforts fail,
The cause OF mercy must prevail, CLNro1