Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds, WE ARE SEVEN [Composed 1798.-Published 1800.] -A simple Child, That lightly draws its breath, I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said; 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." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea. "Two of us in the church-yard lie, And, in the church-yard cottage, I "You say that two at Conway dwell, Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell, Then did the little Maid reply, "You run about, my little Maid, If two are in the church-yard 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 sun-set, Sir, "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 church-yard she was laid; Together round her grave we played, "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!" ANECDOTE FOR FATHERS "Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges."-EUSEBIUS. [Composed 1798.-Published 1798.] I have a boy of five years old; One morn we strolled on our dry walk, My thoughts on former pleasures ran; A day it was when I could bear The green earth echoed to the feet Birds warbled round me-and each trace My boy beside me tripped, so slim "Now tell me, had you rather be," I said, and took him by the arm, "On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm?" In careless mood he looked at me, "Now, little Edward, say why so: "For here are woods, hills smooth and warm: There surely must some reason be Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm For Kilve by the green sea." At this my boy hung down his head, His head he raised-there was in sight, Then did the boy his tongue unlock, O dearest, dearest boy! my heart THE THORN [Composed 1798.-Published 1798.] I "There is a Thorn-it looks so old, Not higher than a two years' child |