Songs of Seven O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow, O columbine, open your folded wrapper, And show me your nest with the young ones in it; I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet, I am seven times one to-day. 427 SEVEN TIMES TWO.-ROMANCE You bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes, And let the brown meadow-lark's note as he ranges Yet birds' clearest carol by fall or by swelling No magical sense conveys, And bells have forgotten their old art of telling "Turn again, turn again," once they rang cheerily, Made his heart yearn again, musing so wearily Poor bells! I forgive you; your good days are over, No listening, no longing shall aught, aught discover: You leave the story to me. The foxglove shoots out of the green matted heather She was idle, and slept till the sunshiny weather: I wish and I wish that the spring would go faster, And I could grow on like the foxglove and aster, I wait for the day when dear hearts shall discover, I wait for my story,-the birds cannot sing it, The bells cannot ring it, but long years, oh, bring it! SEVEN TIMES THREE.-LOVE I LEANED Out of window, I smelt the white clover, If a step draweth near, "The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer, Let the sweet waters flow, And cross quickly to me. "You night-moths that hover, where honey brims over From sycamore blossoms, or settle or sleep; You glowworms, shine out, and the pathway discover Songs of Seven "Too deep for swift telling; and yet, my one lover, 429 I've conned thee an answer, it waits thee to-night." By the sycamore passed he, and through the white. clover, Then all the sweet speech I had fashioned took flight; But I'll love him more, more Than e'er wife loved before, SEVEN TIMES FOUR.-MATERNITY HEIGH-HO! daisies and buttercups! Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall! When the wind wakes how they rock in the grasses, Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups; Mother shall thread them a daisy chain; Sing them a song of the pretty hedge-sparrow, That loved her brown little ones, loved them full fain; Sing, "Heart, thou art wide though the house be but narrow," Sing once, and sing it again. Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups! Sweet wagging cowslips, they bend and they bow; A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters, And haply one musing doth stand at her prow. O bonny brown sons, and O sweet little daughters, Maybe he thinks of you now. Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups! Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall! A sunshiny world full of laughter and leisure, And fresh hearts unconscious of sorrow and thrall! Send down on their pleasure smiles passing its measure, SEVEN TIMES FIVE.-WIDOWHOOD I SLEEP and rest, my heart makes moan Before I am well awake; "Let me bleed! O let me alone, Since I must not break!" For children wake, though fathers sleep O sleepless God, forever keep, I lift mine eyes, and what to see I have not wished it to mourn with me,- Oh, what anear but golden brooms, But a waste of reedy rills! Oh, what afar but the fine glooms On the rare blue hills! I shall not die, but live forlore,— Oh, to meet thee, my love, once more! No more to hear, no more to see! I should know it how faint soe'er, I could be content! Or once between the gates of gold, Songs of Seven SEVEN TIMES SIX.-GIVING IN MARRIAGE To bear, to nurse, to rear, To watch, and then to lose: To bear, to nurse, to rear, To watch and then to lose: This have I done when God drew near To hear, to heed, to wed, And with thy lord depart In tears, that he, as soon as shed, Will let no-longer smart,— To hear, to heed, to wed, This while thou didst I smiled, For now it was not God who said, O fond, O fool, and blind! To God I gave with tears; But when a man like grace would find, O fond, O fool, and blind! God guards in happier spheres; That man will guard where he did bind Is hope for unknown years. To hear, to heed, to wed, Fair lot that maidens choose, Thy mother's tenderest words are said, Thy face no more she views; Thy mother's lot, my dear, 431 i Her lot to bear, to nurse, to rearmos 191łoz A SEVEN TIMES SEVEN, LONGING FOR HOME I A SONG of a boat:-Izqqedxqqed ‚dA awory 19There was once a boat on a billows di Lightly she rocked to her port remote yodT |