21

WE ARE SEVEN.

A SIMPLE Child

HAT 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,

And she was wildly clad;
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
-Her beauty made me glad.

"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."
She answered, "Seven are we ;
And two of us at Conway1 dwell,

And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the churchyard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near the with my mother."

1 Conway, a little sea-coast town in North Wales.

"You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven!—I

pray you tell, Sweet Maid, how this may be ?"

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."

“You run about, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the churchyard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"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-
I sit and sing to them.

“And often after sunset, Sir,
When it is light and fair,

I take my little porringer,

And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane; In bed she moaning lay,

Till God released her of her pain;

And then she went away.

"So in the churchyard she was laid;
And when the grass was dry,
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 ?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."

"But they are dead; those two are dead! Their spirits are in heaven!"

"Twas throwing words away; for still

The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"

22

HURRAH FOR THE SEA!

THE sea, the glorious sea!

How pleasant it is on the sea!

When around us the billows are heaving,

And boldly our vessel is cleaving
Her path through the open sea-

The bright, the glorious sea!

Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!

The sea, the summer sea!

There's nothing so bright as the sea!
When the rippling waters are glancing,
In sunshine, like diamonds dancing:
Who does not love the sea,

The dazzling summer sea?

Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!

The sea, the stormy sea!

The home of the brave and the free;
Each moment our spirits are rising,
While hardships and danger despising,
We sail on the stormy sea-

The wild, the stormy sea.

Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!

THE FOUR SEASONS.

PRING day, happy day,

God hath made the earth so gay;
Every little flower He waketh,

Every herb to grow He maketh.
When the pretty lambs are springing,
When the little birds are singing,
Then forget not God to praise,
Who hath sent such happy days.

Summer day, sultry1 day,
Hotly burns the noontide ray;
Gentle drops of summer showers
Fall on thirsty trees and flowers;

I sultry, hot and close, lit. sweltry.

On the cornfield rain doth pour,
Ripening grain for winter store;
Then to God our thanks should be
For the glorious things we see.

Autumn day, fruitful day,

See what God hath given away—,
Orchard trees with fruit are bending;
Harvest wains2 are homeward wending;
And the Lord o'er all the land
Opens wide his bounteous hand.
Let us, gathering fruits that fall,
Think of God who gives them all.

Winter day, frosty day,

God a cloak on all doth lay:
On the earth the snow he sheddeth,
O'er the lamb a fleece He spreadeth;
Gives the bird a coat of feathers,
To protect it in all weathers;
Gives us clothing, shelter, food.
Let us praise him. God is good!

24

THE BLIND BOY'S BEEN AT PLAY.

THE Blind Boy's been at play, mother,

And merry games we had;

We led him on our way, mother,

And every step was glad.

2 wain, waggon.

L