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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;
66 Seven are we, “ And two of us at Conway dwell, is And two are gone to sea :-
" Two of us in the church-yard lie,
• You say that two at Conway dwell,
are seven; I pray you • Sweet Maid, how this may be?'
Then did the little Maid reply,
• You run about, my little mạid,
“ Their gtaves are green, they may (The little Maid replied) “Twelve steps ormore 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.
66 The first that died was little Jane;
“ So in the church-yard she was laid,
Together round her grave we played,
“And when the ground was white with snow, 66 And I could run and slide, “ 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?'. The little Maiden did reply, “ O Master! we are seven.”
***But they are dead; those two are dead!
WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING,
I HEARD å thousand blended notes,
To her fair works did Nature link
Through primrose-tufts, in that sweet bower
The birds around me hopp'd and play'd: