WE ARE SEVEN.

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,

"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,
"Yet you are seven; I pray you tell
"Sweet Maid, how this may be?"

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;
"If two are in the church-yard laid,
"Then ye are only five."

"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.

"And often after sunset, Sir,
"When it is light and fair,
" I take my little porringer,
"And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was little 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,
" And all the summer dry,
"Together round her grave we played,
"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."

H

"How many are you then," said I,

"If they two are in Heaven ?"

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!"