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SEVEN TIMES TW0.-ROMANCE.
SEVEN TIMES THREE.-LOVE. COU bells in the steeple, ring, ring out LEANED out of window, I smelt the white your changes
clover, How many soever they be,
Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the And let the brown meadow-lark's note as he gate; ranges
“Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one Come over, come over to me.
Hush, nightingale, hush! ( sweet nightinYet bird's clearest carol, by fall or by swell gale, wait ing
Till I listen and hear No magical sense conveys,
If a step draweth near, And bells have forgotten their old art of tell
For my love he is late! ing The fortune of future days.
“ The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and
nearer, " Turn again, turn again,” once they rang A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree, cheerily,
The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes While a boy listened alone;
clearer: Made his heart yearn again, musing so wearily To what art thou listening, and what dost All by himself on a stone.
Let the star-clusters glow, Poor bells! I forgive you; your good days are
Let the sweet waters flow, over,
And cross quickly to me. And mine, they are yet to be; No listening, no longing shall aught, aught dis- “ You night-moths that hover where honey
briins over You leave the story to me.
From sycamore blossoms, or settle or sleep;
And dance with the cuckoo-buds slender
and small! Here's two bonny boys, and here's mother's
Eager to gather them all.
*You glow-worms, shine out, and the pathway
discover To him that comes darkling along the rough
Ah, my sailor, make haste,
And my love lieth deep-
lover, I've conned thee an answer, it waits thee to
night.” By the sycamore passed he, and through the
white clover; Then all the sweet speech I had fashioned
But I'll love him more, more
Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups !
Mother shall thread them a daisy chain; Sing them a song of the pretty hedge-sparrow, That loved her brown little ones, loved them
full fain; Sing, “ Heart thou art wide, though the house
be but narrow,”
Sing once and sing it again.
Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups,
they bow; A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters, And haply one musing doth stand at her
prow. O bonny brown sons, and O sweet little daugh
May-be he thinks on you now!
SEVEN TIMES FOUR.-MATERNITY. LEIGH-HO! daisies and buttercups, Pl Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall! When the wind wakes how they rock in the
Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups,
O what anear but golden brooms!
And a waste of reedy rills; O what afar but the fine glooms
On the rare blue hills!
I shall not die, but live forlore
How bitter it is to part! O to meet thee, my love, once more!
O my heart, my heart!
No more to hear, no more to see!
O that an echo might awake And waft one note of thy psalm to me,
Ere my heart-strings break!
I should know it how faint soe'er,
And with angel voices blent; O once to feel thy spirit anear,
I could be content!
“O bonny brown sons, and 0 sweet little daughters,
May-be he thinks on you now!"
Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall-
God that is over us all!
SEVEN TIMES FIVE.-WIDOWHOOD.
SLEEP and rest, my heart makes moan,
Before I am well awake;
Since I must not break!"
With a stone at foot and at head;
Keep both living and dead!
I lift mine eyes, and what to see,
But a world happy and fair;
Comfort is not there.
O once between the gates of gold,
While an angel entering trod; But once—thee sitting to behold
On the hills of God,
A SONG OF A BOAT.
THERE was once a boat on a billow:
Lightly she rocked to her port remote, And the foam was white in her wake like
snow, And her frail mast bowed when the breeze
would blow, And bent like a wand of willow,
I pray you what is the nest to me,
My empty nest ?
My boat sail down to the west ?
Though my good man has sailed ?
Now all its hope hath failed ?
And the land where my nestlings be:
sent, The only home for me—Ah, me!
I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat
Went curtsying over the billow, I marked her course till a dancing mote She faded out on the moonlit foam, And I stayed behind in the dear loved home;