I led a wandering life among the fields;
Contentedly, yet sometimes self-accused,
I lived upon what casual bounty yields,
Now coldly given, now utterly refused.
The ground I for my bed have often used:
But what afflicts my peace with keenest ruth,
Is that I have my inner self abused,

Foregone the home delight of constant truth,

And clear and open soul, so prized in fearless youth.

Three years thus wandering, often have I viewed,
In tears, the sun towards that country tend
Where my poor heart lost all its fortitude:
And now across this moor my steps I bend-
Oh! tell me whither-for no earthly friend
Have I.She ceased, and weeping turned away;
As if because her tale was at an end,

She wept ;-because she had no more to say

Of that perpetual weight which on her spirit lay.

WE ARE SEVEN.

A simple Child,

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 clustered 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 churchyard lie.
My sister and my brother;
And in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,

And two are gone to sea,

Yet ye are seven !—I pray you tell,

Sweet Maid, how this may be ?" be?"

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."

"You run about, my little Maid, Your limbs they are alive;

If two are in the churchyard 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 churchyard she was laid;

And all the summer dry,

Together round her grave we played,

My brother John and I.

46

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."