WE ARE SEVEN. A SIMPLE child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death? I met a little cottage girl She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, Her eyes were fair, and very fair- "Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many?-seven in all," she said; And, wondering, looked at me. "And where are they, I pray you tell?" And, in the churchyard cottage, I If two are in the churchyard laid, "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side. "My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem; And there upon the ground I sit- "And often after sunset, sir, Till God released her of her pain, "So in the churchyard she was laid; Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. "And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." "How many are you then," said I, "If they two are in heaven?" The little maiden did reply, "Oh, master, we are seven!" "But they are dead-those two are dead! THER EARLY CHILDHOOD. HERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, To me did seem Apparell'd in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream. By night or day, The things which I have seen I now can see no more! The rainbow comes and goes, And lovely is the rose; The moon doth with delight Look round her when the heavens are bare; Are beautiful and fair; The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath pass'd away a glory from the earth. Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, As to the tabor's' sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief : And I again am strong. The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep,- Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity, And with the heart of May Doth every beast keep holiday ;— Thou child of joy Shut round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd boy! |