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I cannot tell liow this may be,
But plain it is, the thorn is bound
With heavy tufts of moss, that strive
To drag it to the ground.
And this I know, full many a time,
When she was on the mountain high,
By day, and in the silent night,
When all the stars shone clear and bright,
That I have heard her cry,
“Oh misery! oh misery !
4 O woe! oh misery!"


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."

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