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WE ARE SETEN.

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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.”
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,

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WE ARE SEVEN.

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.
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.”

“ 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!”

WORDSWORTH.

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HEAR thee speak of the better land;
Thou callest its children a happy band.
Mother! oh, where is that radiant shore;
Shall we not seek it, and weep no more?
Is it where the flower of the orange blows,

[Of the poetry of Felicia HEMANS, Scott is related to have deplored that, with so many and such fair blossoms, it had yielded so little fruit. The criticism, though not devoid of truth, was severe. Though Mrs. Hemans, unfortunately, never concentrated her great powers sufficiently to produce a poem displaying all her excellencies, she has achieved an undoubted right to a high rank among English poets. She died in 1835, aged 40.]

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THE BETTER LAND.

And the fire-fies glance through the myrtle boughs ? --_“Not there, not there, my child ! ”

“ Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise,
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies?
Or midst the green islands of glittering seas,
Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze,
And strange, bright birds, on their starry wings,
Bear the rich hues of all glorious things?
—“Not there, not there, my child ! ”

“ Is it far away in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold ; Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand ? Is it there, sweet mother, that better land ? ” —“Not there, not there, my child !”

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Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep sound of joy ;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair ;
Sorrow and death may not enter there ;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom :
Far bey ond the clouds,and beyond the tomb,
- It is there, it is there, my child !”

MRS. HEMANS.

Hohenlinden.

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N Linden, when the sun

was low, All bloodless lay the un

trodden snow;
And dark, as winter was

the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

But Linden saw another

sight, When the drum beat at

dead of night, Commanding fires of death to

light
The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast array'd
Each horseman drew his battle blade,
And furious every charger neigh'd

To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills, by thunder riven ;
Then rush'd the steed to battle driven ;
And rolling, like the bolts of Heaven,

Far flash'd the red artillery.

[THOMAS CAMPBELL, one of the most distinguished among modern poets, was born at Glasgow in 1777. At the early age of 22 he wrote his fine poem the “ Pleasures of Hope ;” but it is upon his Odes and Ballads that his fame chiefly rests. Of these, the most universally appreciated are, “ Ye Mariners of England,” “ Lord Ullin's Daughter,” and the “ Battle of the Baltic.” Of the fight of Hohenlinden he was an eye. witness. He died in 1844.]

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