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We Are SevenWe Are Seven
We Are Seven
A simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?
I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.
She had a rustic, woodland air,
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?`
`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 church - yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church - yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother.`
`You 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,
`Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church - yard lie,
Beneath the church - yard tree.`
`You run above, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church - yard laid,
Then ye are only five.`
`Their graves are green, they may be seen,`
The little Maid replied,
`Twelve steps or more from my mother`s door,
And they are side by side.
`My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.
`And often after sun - set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.
`The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.
`So in the church - yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My bother 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,
`If they two are in heaven?`
Quick was the little Maid`s reply,
`O Master! we are seven.`
`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!`
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