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He thought of that sharp look, mother, I gave | And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'll merrily him yesterday,
glance and play, But I'm to be Queen o’the May, mother, I 'm to For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.
be Queen o' the May.
He thought I was a ghost, mother, for I was all So you must wake and call me early, call me in white;
early, mother dear; And I ran by him without speaking, like a flash To-morrow 'll be the happiest time of all the glad of light.
new-year ; They call me cruel-hearted, but I care not what To-morrow'll be of all the year the maddest, they say,
merriest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I’m to For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm be Queen o' the May.
to be Queen o' the May.
NEW YEAR'S EVE. They say he's dying all for love, — but that can
never be ; They say his heart is breaking, mother, — what If you're waking, call me early, call me early,
mother dear, is that to me?
For I would see the sun rise upon the glad newThere's many a bolder lad 'll woo me any sum
year. mer day ; And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to Then you may lay me low i' the mould, and think
It is the last new-year that I shall ever see, be Queen o' the May,
no more of me.
Little Effie shall go with me to-morrow to the To-night I saw the sun set, — he set and left begreen,
hind And you 'll be there, too, mother, to see me made The good old year, the dear old time, and all my the Queen ;
peace of mind; For the shepherd lads on every side 'll come from And the new-year's coming up, mother ; but I far away ;
shall never see And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I 'm to The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the be Queen o' the May.
The honeysuckle round the porch has woven its Last May we made a crown of flowers; we had wavy bowers,
a merry day, — And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet
Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made cuckoo-flowers ;
me Queen of May; And the wild marsh-marigold shines like fire in And we danced about the May-pole and in the
swamps and hollows gray ; And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to Till Charles's Wain came out above the tall white be Queen o' the May.
There's not a flower on all the hills, — the frost The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the
is on the pane ; meadow-grass,
I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again. And the happy stars above them seem to brighten I wish the snow would melt and the sun come as they pass ;
out on high, There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the I long to see a flower so before the day I die.
livelong day; And I'm to be Queen o'the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.
The building rook 'll caw from the windy talı
And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea, All the valley, mother, 'll be fresh and green and And the swallow 'll come back again with sumstill,
mer o'er the wave, And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the But I shall lie alone, mother, within the mould. hill,
['pon the chancel-casement, and upon that grave She'll find my garden tools upon the granary of mine,
floor. In the early, early morning the summer sun ’ll Let her take 'em, — they are hers; I shall never shine,
garden more. Before the red cock crows from the farm upon But tell her, when I'm gone, to train the rosethe hill, –
bush that I set When you are warm-asleep, mother, and all the About the parlor window and the box of mignon. world is still
When the flowers come again, mother, beneath Good night, sweet mother ! Call me before the the waning light
day is born. You'll never see me more in the long gray fields All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn; at night;
But I would see the sun rise upon the glad newWhen from the dry dark wold the summer airs year, blow cool
So, if you ’re waking, call me, call me early, mother
dear On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the
bulrush in the pool.
You 'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the I thought to pass away before, and yet alive I hawthorn shade,
am; And you 'll conie sometimes and see me where I And in the fields all round I hear the bleating of am lowly laid.
the lamb. I shall not forget you, mother; I shall hear you How sadly, I remember, rose the morning of the
when you pass, With your feet above my head in the long and To die before the snowdrop came, and now the pleasant grass.
I have been wild and wayward, but
0, sweet is the new violet, that comes beneath the 'll forgive you
skies; me now; You 'll kiss me, my own mother, upon my cheek And sweeter is the young lamb's voice to me that
cannot rise ; and brow;
And sweet is all the land about, and all the flowers Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief
that blow; be wild ; You should not fret for me, mother, -- you have And sweeter far is death than life, to me that long
If I can, I'll come again, mother, from out my
It seemed so hard at first, mother, to leave the resting-place; Though you 'll not see me, mother, I shall look And now it seems as hard to stay; and yet, His
will be done! upon your face ; Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken But still I think it can't be long before I find re
lease ; And be often, often with you when you think I'm
And that good man, the clergyman, has told me
words of peace.
what you say,
Good night! good night! when I have said good 0, blessings on his kindly voice, and on his silver night forevermore,
hair! And you see me carried out from the threshold And blessings on his whole life long, until he meet of the door,
me there! Don't let Effie come to see me till my grave be o, blessings on his kindly heart and on his silver growing green,
head ! She 'll be a better child to you than ever I have A thousand times I blest him, as he knelt beside been.
He taught me all the mercy, for he showed me So now I think my time is near; I trust it is. all the sin;
I know Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's The blessed music went that way my soul will
One will let me in. Nor would I now be well, mother, again, if that And for myself, indeed, I care not if I go to-day ; could be ;
But Effie, you must comfort her when I am past For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for away.
have to go.
And say to Robin a kind word, and tell him not I did not hear the dog howl, mother, or the death-watch beat,
There's many worthier than I, would make him
happy yet. There came a sweeter token when the night and
If I had lived — I cannot tell - I might have morning meet; But sit beside my bed, mother, and put your But all these things have ceased to be, with my
been his wife ; hand in mine,
desire of life. And Effie on the other side, and I will tell the sign.
O, look ! the sun begins to rise ! the heavens are
in a glow ; All in the wild March-morning I heard the He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them angels call,
I know. It was when the moon was setting, and the dark And there I move no longer now, and there his
was over all ; The trees began to whisper, and the wind began Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than
light may shine, to roll,
mine. And in the wild March-morning I heard them call my soul.
O, sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this
day is done For, lying broad awake, I thought of you and The voice that now is speaking may be beyond
Effie dear; I saw you sitting in the house, and I no longer Forever and forever with those just souls and
true, With all my strength I prayed for both, — and so And what is life, that we should moan ? why I felt resigned,
make we such ado? And up the valley came a swell of music on the wind.
Forever and forever, all in a blessed home,
And there to wait a little while till you and I thought that it was fancy, and I listened in my
To lie within the light of God, as I lie upon your And then did something speak to me, -I know breast, not what was said ;
And the wicked cease from troubling, and the For great delight and shuddering took hold of all
weary are at rest.
And up the valley came again the music on the
But you were sleeping ; and I said, “It's not
for them, — it's mine"; And if it comes three times, I thought, I take it
for a sign. And once again it came, and close beside the
window-bars ; Then seemed to go right up to heaven and die
among the stars.
WHEEL me into the sunshine,
I shall not dazzle or shiver,
Wheel, wheel through the sunshine,
A single self reposes,
That gains and loses, loses and gains,
thousand pains, Cooled at once by that blood-let
Upon the parapet ;
O to think my name is crost
O to think, through good or ill,
New springs of fresh primroses,
THE BLIND BOY.
And though there's little I can say,
weight Of what it doth relate (Like that blind comrade, - blinded in the
wars, — Who bore the one-eyed brother that was lame), You 'll remember 't is the same That cried “ Follow me,” Upon a summer's day ; And I shall understand with unshed tears This great reverence that I see, And bless the day, -- and thee, Lord God of victory!
0, SAY what is that thing called Light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy ?
0, tell your poor blind boy !
You talk of wondrous things you see,
You say the sun shines bright; I feel him warm, but how can he
Or make it day or night?
My day or night myself I make
Whene'er I sleep or play ; And could I ever keep awake
With me 't were always day.
With heavy sighs I often hear
You mourn my hapless woe ; But sure with patience I can bear
A loss I ne'er can know.
Then let not what I cannot have
My cheer of mind destroy : Whilst thus I sing, I am a king,
Although a poor blind boy.
DIVERSITY OF FORTUNE.
FROM "MISS KILMANSEGG." WHAT different dooms our birthdays bring ! For instance, one little manikin thing
Survives to wear many a wrinkle ; While death forbids another to wake, And a son that it took nine moons to make
Expires without even a twinkle :
As a child that holds by his mother, While his mother speaks his praises, Holds with eager hands, And ruddy and silent stands In the ruddy and silent daisies, And hears her bless her boy, And lifts a wondering joy, So I'll not seek nor sue her, But I'll leave my glory to woo her, And I'll stand like a child beside, And from behind the purple pride I 'll lift my eyes unto her, And I shall not be denied. And you will love her, brother dear, And perhaps next year you 'll bring me here All through the balmy April tide, And she will trip like spring by my side, And be all the birds to my ear. And here all three we'll sit in the sun, And see the Aprils one by one, Primrosed Aprils on and on, Till the floating prospect closes In golden glimmers that rise and rise, And perhaps are gleams of Paradise, And perhaps too far for mortal eyes,
Into this world we come like ships,
For fortune fair or fatal ;
While another rides safe at Port Natal.
What different lots our stars accord !
And that to be shunned like a leper! One, to the world's wine, honey, and corn, Another, like Colchester native, born
To its vinegar only, and pepper.