She had a rustic, woodland air, "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, "You say that two at Conway dwell, Yet ye are seven; I pray you tell, Then did the little maid reply, "You run about, my little maid, "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's dcor, And they are side by side. "My stockings there I often knit, My 'kerchief there I hem; 'And often after sunset, sir, I take my little porringer "The first that died was little Jane: "So in the churchyard she was laid; 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, "Gone with the Swan." "And did she stand With her anchor clutching hold of the sand, "Why, to be sure! I've seen from the land,A Like a lover kissing his lady's hand, The wild sea kissing her- "But, my good mother, do you know, I stood on the Gray Swan's deck, "And did the little lawless lad, That has made you sick and made you sad, Be sure, he sailed with the crew- "And he has never written line, "Hold-if 'twas wrong, the wrong is mi And could he write from the grave "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." LUCY GRAY. BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray, No mate, no comrade, Lucy knew; You yet may spy the fawn at play, "To-night will be a stormy night— |