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THE MAY QUEEN.

75

Oh, blessings on his kindly voice, and on his silver hair! And blessings on his whole life long, until he meet me

there!

Oh, blessings on his kindly heart, and on his silver head! A thousand times I blessed him, as he knelt beside my bed.

He showed me all the mercy, for he taught me all the

sin:

Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will let me in:

Nor would I now be well, mother, again, if that could

be,

For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for me.

I did not hear the dog howl, mother, or the death-watch beat,

There came a sweeter token when the night and morning

meet.

But sit beside my bed, mother, and put your hand in mine,

And Effie on the other side, and I will tell the sign.

All in the wild March morning I heard the angels call: It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was over

all;

76

THE MAY QUEEN.

The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to roll, And in the wild March morning I heard them call my soul.

For, lying broad awake, I thought of you and Effie dear; I saw you sitting in the house, and I no longer here : With all my strength I prayed for both, and so I felt resigned,

And up the valley came a swell of music on the wind.

I thought that it was fancy, and I listened in my bed, And then did something speak to me I know not what was said,

For great delight and shuddering took hold of all my

mind,

And up the valley came again the music on the wind.

But you were sleeping; and I said, "It's not for them :

it's mine."

And if it comes three times, I thought, I take it for a

sign.

And once again it came, and close beside the window

bars,

Then seemed to go right up to Heaven, and die among the stars.

THE MAY QUEEN.

77

So now I think my time is near. I trust it is. I know The blessed music went that way my soul will have to go.

And for myself, indeed, I care not if I go to-day ;

But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am past away.

And say to Robin a kind word, and tell him not to fret: There's many a worthier than I would make him happy yet.

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If I had lived-I cannot tell — I might have been his

wife;

But all these things have ceased to be, with my desire of life.

Oh, look! the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a

glow;

He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I

know.

And there I move no longer now, and there his light may shine

Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than mine.

Oh, sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done

The voice, that now is speaking, may be beyond the

sun

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ON ANOTHER'S SORROW.

Forever and forever with those just souls and true!
And what is life, that we should moan? why make we

such ado?

Forever and forever, all in a blessed home,

And there to wait a little while till you and Effie come; To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your

breast,

And the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary

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ON ANOTHER'S SORROW.

And can He who smiles on all,
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast?
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant's tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
Oh, no! never can it be !
Never, never can it be !

He doth give His joy to all;
He becomes an Infant small;
He becomes a Man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not nigh;
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.

Oh! He gives to us His joy,
That our griefs He may destroy;
Till our grief is fled and gone,
He doth sit by us and mourn.

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