Изображения страниц


So you must wake and call me early, call me early,

mother dear, Tomorrow ’ill be the happiest time of all the glad

New-vear: To-morrow 'ill be of all the year the maddest, mer

riest day, For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to

be Queen o'the May.



[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.


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


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


IV. There's not a flower on all the hills: the frost is on

the pane:

I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again :
I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out

on high : I long to see

a flower so before the day I die.

[ocr errors]

The building rook ’ill caw from the windy tall elni

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 moulder

ing grave.


Upon the chancel-casement, and upon that grave

of mine, In the early early morning the summer sun'ill

shine, Before the red cock crows from the farm upon the

hill, When you are warm-asleep, mother, and all the

world is still


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 bul.

rush in the pool.


You'll bury me, iny 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.


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.


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 harken what

you say, And be often, often with you when you think I'm

far away.


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



the granary floor :

She'll find my garden-tools upon
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 migno.



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 New

year, So, if you're waking, call me, call me early, mother




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


To die before the snowdrop came, and now the

violet's here.


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.


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.


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



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



I did not hear the dog howl, mother, or the death

watch beat, There came a sweeter token when the night and

morning meet:

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »