198

THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.

Instead of the shapes that hid us,
And made us old and gray,

Shall we get our child-hearts back again,
With a brightness that will stay?

I thought — but my little daughter
Slipped her dimpled hand in mine;
"I was only playing," she whispered,
"That I was ninety-nine."

THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.

They grew in beauty, side by side,
They filled one home with glee;
Their graves are severed far and wide,
By mount, and stream, and sea.

The same fond mother bent at night
O'er each fair, sleeping brow;
She had each folded flower in sight:
Where are those sleepers now?

One, midst the forest of the West,
By a dark stream is laid;

The Indian knows his place of rest,
Far in the cedar shade.

200

THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.

The sea, the blue, lone sea, hath one;
He lies where pearls lie deep;
He was the loved of all, yet none
O'er his low bed may weep.

One sleeps where southern vines are dressed
Above the noble slain;

He wrapped the colors round his breast
On a blood-red field of Spain.

And parted thus, they rest who played
Beneath the same green tree;
Whose voices mingled as they prayed
Around one parent knee.

They that with smiles lit up the hall,
And cheered with song the hearth;
Alas for love! if thou wert all,
And nought beyond, O earth!

MRS. HEMANS.

202

GEORGE NIDIVER.

They see two grizzly bears,
With hunger fierce and fell,
Rush at them unawares

Right down the narrow dell.

The boy turned round with screams,
And ran with terror wild;
One of the pair of savage beasts

Pursued the shrieking child.

I

And met him face to face.

say unarmed he stood:

Against those frightful paws

The rifle butt, or club of wood,

Could stand no more than straws.

George Nidiver stood still

And looked him in the face;
The wild beast stopped amazed,

Then came with slack'ning pace.