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POEMS REFERRING TO THE
PERIOD OF CHILDHOOD
"MY HEART LEAPS UP WHEN I BEHOLD"
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began ;
So be it when I shall grow old,
The Child is father of the Man;
TO A BUTTERFLY
STAY near me, do not take thy flight!
Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart !
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
My father's family!
Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
My sister Emmeline and I
Upon the prey; with leaps and springs
THE SPARROW'S NEST
BEHOLD, within the leafy shade,
The Sparrow's dwelling, which, hard by
She looked at it, and seemed to fear it;
She gave me eyes, she gave me ears;
WE ARE SEVEN
-A SIMPLE Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
What should it know of death?
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,
"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
"You say that two at Conway dwell,
Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell,
Then did the little Maid reply,
'Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the church-yard lie, Beneath the church-yard tree."
"You run about, my little Maid,
"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 sing a song to them.
"And often after sun-set, Sir,
"The first that died was sister Jane;
Till God released her of her pain;
"So in the church-yard she was laid;
Together round her grave we played,
"And when the ground was white with snow, And could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."
"How many are you, then,” said I,
66 But they are dead; those two are dead!
'Twas throwing words away; for still The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"