IX. The night-winds come and go, mother, upon the meadow grass, And the happy stars above them seem to brighten as they pass; There will not be a drop of rain the whole of the livelong day, And I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. X. All the valley, mother, 'ill be fresh and green and still, And the cowslip and the crowfoot are over all the hill, And the rivulet in the flowery dale 'ill merrily glance and play, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May. XI. So you must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear, NEW YEAR'S EVE. IF I. F you're waking call me early, call me early, mother dear, For I would see the sun rise upon the glad New-year. It is the last New-year that I shall ever see, Then you may lay me low i' the mould, and think no more of me. II. To-night I saw the sun set: he set and left behind The good old year, the dear old time, and all my peace of mind; And the New-year 's coming up, mother, but I shall never see The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree. NEW YEAR'S EVE. III. 53 Last May we made a crown of flowers: we had a merry day; Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of May; And we danced about the May-pole and in the hazel copse, Till Charles's Wain came out above the tall white chimney-tops. IV. There's not a flower on all the hills: the frost is on the pane: I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high; V. The building rook 'ill caw from the windy tall elm-tree, And the tufted plover pipe along the fallow lea, And the swallow 'ill come back again with summer o'er the wave, But I shall lie alone, mother, within the mouldering grave. VI. Upon the chancel-casement, and upon that grave of mine, VII. When the flowers come again, mother, beneath the waning light, You'll never see me more in the long gray fields at night; When from the dry dark wold the summer airs blow cool On the oat-grass and the sword-grass, and the bulrush in the pool. VIII. You'll bury me, my mother, just beneath the hawthorn 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. CONCLUSION. X. 55 If I can, I'll come again, mother, from out my resting-place; Though you'll not see me, mother, I shall look upon your face; Though I cannot speak a word, I shall hearken 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 forever more, 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. XII. 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. XIII. Good night, sweet mother: call me before the day is born. But I would see the sun rise upon the glad New-year, CONCLUSION. I. I THOUGHT to pass away before, and yet alive I am; And in the fields all round I hear the bleating of the lamb. How sadly, I remember, rose the morning of the year! To die before the snowdrop came, and now the violet's here. II. O sweet is the new violet, that comes beneath the skies, 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 release; 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. VI. I did not hear the dog howl, mother, or the death-watch beat, 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; |