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A SIMPLE child, dear brother Jim,
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 cluster'd 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, . i.; “ And two of us at Conway dwell, " And two are gone to sea:


" Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother,.'
“ And in the church-yard cottage, I
“ Dwell near them with my mother." ..

• You say that two at Conway dwell, . And two are gone to sea, i

Yet you are seven; I pray you tellimin • Sweet Maid, how this may be?', in

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,
Your limbs they are alive; i

If two are in the church-yard laid, i. • Then ye are only five.'.

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“ Their graves are green, they may be seen, (The little Maid replied) “ Twelve stepsormore 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, isso,
" When it is light and fair, :
“ I take my little porringer,'..
“ And eat my supper there.

66 The first that died was little Jane;
“ In bed she moaning lay,
“ Till God released her of her pain,
“ And then she went away. .

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“ So in the church-yard she was laid
" And all the summer dry, .. .
“ Together round her grave we played,
“ My brother John and I. '

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“ And when the ground was white with mow, And I could run and slide, . ..s “ 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?'. ti The little Maiden did 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!”



I HEARD å thousand blended notes, :.
While in a grove I sate reclin’d,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What Man has made of Man.

Through primrose-tufts, in that sweet bower
The periwinkle trail'd its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopp'd and play'd:
Their thoughts I cannot measure,
But the least motion which they made
It seem'd a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air,
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If I these thoughts may not prevent,
If such be of my creed the plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What Man has made of Man?

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