nursed,

And led by Nature into a wild scene 15 Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth A favored Being, knowing no desire Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint

Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,

And scorn,-against all enemies prepared, 20 All but neglect. The world, for so it thought,

Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
With indignation turned himself away,
And with the food of pride sustained his
soul

In solitude. Stranger! these gloomy
boughs

25 Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit,

His only visitants a straggling sheep, The stone-chat,2 or the glancing sandpiper

And on these barren rocks, with fern

She had a rustic, woodland air, 10 And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
-Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little maid,
How many may you be?"

15 "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, 20 And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the churchyard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

25You 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, 30Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard tree."

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;

And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

45And often after sunset, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane; 50 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, when the grass was dry,

55 Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I.

In solitude. Stranger! these gloomy boughs

25 Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit,

His only visitants a straggling sheep, The stone-chat,2 or the glancing sandpiper

And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath,

And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er, 30 Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here An emblem of his own unfruitful life: And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze

On the more distant scene,-how lovely 'tis 35 Thou seest,-and he would gaze till it

became

Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain

The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time,

1 "He was a gentleman of the neighborhood, a man of talent and learning, who had been educated at one of our universities, and returned to pass his time in seclusion on his own estate."--Wordsworth.

2 A common European singing bird.

If thou be one whose heart the holy forms

Of young imagination have kept pure, 50 Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride,

Howe'er disguised in its own majesty,
Is littleness; that he who feels contempt
For any living thing, hath faculties
Which he has never used; that thought
with him

55 Is in its infancy. The man whose eye Is ever on himself doth look on one, The least of Nature's works, one who

might move

The wise man to that scorn which wis-
dom holds
Unlawful, ever.

O be wiser, thou! 60 Instructed that true knowledge leads to love;

True dignity abides with him alone Who, in the silent hour of inward thought, Can still suspect, and still revere himself, In lowliness of heart.

She had a rustic, woodland air, 10 And she was wildly clad:

Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
-Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little maid,
How many may you be?"

15 "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, 20 And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the churchyard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the churchyard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

25You 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,
30Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the churchyard lie,
Beneath the churchyard tree."'

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

45And often after sunset, sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane; 50 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, when the grass was dry,

55 Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I.