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VIII. You'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the haw. thorn shade, And you’ll come sometimes and see me where I am lowly laid. I shall not forget you, mother, I shall hear you when you pass, With your feet above my head in the long and pleasant grass.

IX. I have been wild and wayward, but you’ll forgive me now ; You'll kiss me, my own mother, and forgive me ere I go : Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild,

You should not fret for me, mother, you have another child.

X. If I can I’ll come again, mother, from out my restinglace ; Thougoi not see me, mother, I shall look upon wo your face; Though I cannot speak a word, I shall harken what you Say, And be often, often with you when you think I’m far away. XI. Good-night, good-night, when I have said good-night forevermore, And you see me carried out from the threshold of the door;

Don't let Effie'come to see me till my grave be growing green :

She'll be a better child to you than ever I have been.

DXII. She’ll find my garden-tools upon the granary floor: Let her take 'em : they are hers: I shall never garden more: But tell her, when I’m gone, to train the rose-bush that I set About the parlor-window and the box of mignonette.

YIII.

Good-night, sweet mother: call me before the day is born.

All night I lie awake, but I fall asleep at morn;

But I would see the sun rise upon the glad Newyear

So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother dear.

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I. I THOUGHT to pass away before, and yet alive I

al]] . And in the fields all round I hear the bleating of the lamb. How sadly, I remember, rose the morning of the ear ! To die before the snowdrop came, and now the violet's here. - *

II. O sweet is the new violet, that comes beneath the skies, And sweeter is the young lamb's voice to me that cannot rise,

And sweet is all the land about, and all the flowers that blow,

And sweeter far is death than life to me that long to go.

III.

It seemed so hard at first, mother, to leave the blessed sun,

And now it seems as hard to stay; and yet, His will be done !

But still I think it can't be long before I find re

lease;

And that good man, the clergyman, has told me

words of peace.

IV.

O blessings on his kindly voice and on his silver

hair ] And blessings on his whole life long, until he meet

me there ! O blessings on his kindly heart and on his silver

head A thousand times I blest him, as he knelt beside my

bed.

V.

He taught me all the mercy, for he showed me all

the sin.

Now, though my lamp was lighted late, there's One will let me in : Nor would I now be well, mother, again, if that could be, For my desire is but to pass to Him that died for . Isle.

VI. I did not hear the dog howl, mother, or the deathwatch beat, There came a sweeter token when the night and morning meet:

But sit beside my bed, mother, and put your hand in mine,

And Effie on the other side, and I will tell the sign.

VII. All in the wild March-morning I heard the angels call; It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was over all; The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to

roll And in the wild March-morning I heard them call my soul. VIII. For lying broad awake I thought of you and Effie dear: I saw you sitting in the house, and I no longer here :

o * With all my strength I prayed for both, and so I felt resigned, And up the valley came a swell of music on the wind.

IX. I thought that it was fancy, and I listened in my

bed, And then did something speak to me—I know not what was said; For great delight and shuddering took hold of all my mind, And up the valley came again the music on the wind.

X. 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 th window-bars,

Then seemed to go right up to heaven and die among the stars.

XI. So now I think my time is near. I trust it is, I know The blessed music went that way my soul will have

to go. And for myself, indeed, I care not if I go to-day, But, Effie, you must comfort her when I am past

away. IXII. And say to Robin a kind word, and tell him not to fret: There’s many worthier than I would make him happy yet. If I had lived—I cannot tell—I might have been his wife;

But all these things have ceased to be, with my desire of life.

XIII. O look the sun begins to rise, the heavens are in a glow ; He shines upon a hundred fields, and all of them I know. And there I move no longer now, and there his light may shine— Wild flowers in the valley for other hands than IIllsle.

XIV. O sweet and strange it seems to me, that ere this day is done

The voice that now is speaking may be beyond the SUIIl—

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