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I cannot tell liow this may be,
WE ARE SEVEN.
A simple child, dear brother Jim,
I met a little cottage girl,
She had a rustic, woodland air,
“ 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,
Dwell near them with my mother."
“You say that two at Conway dwell,
pray you tell
Then did the little Maid reply,
“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" I sit and sing to them.
" The first that died was little Jane ;:
“So in the church-yard she was laid,
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."