belen Daria Williams. WHILST THEE I SEEK. Whilst Thee I seek, protecting Power, With better hopes be filled. Thy love the power of thought bestowed; In each event of life, how clear Each blessing to my soul more dear, In every joy that crowns my days, My heart shall find delight in praise, Or seek relief in prayer. When gladness wings my favored hour, My lifted eye, without a tear, William Wordsworth. 1770-1850. THE DAFFODILS. I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Continuous as the stars that shine The waves beside them danced, but they A poet could not but be gay In such a jocund company; I gazed and gazed-but little thought For oft, when on my couch I lie 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, "Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering look'd 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 churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And in the churchyard cottage I Dwell near them with my mother." 66 You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea, Yet ye are seven! I pray you tell, Then did the little maid reply: Seven boys and girls are we ; "You run about, my little maid, "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 often after sunset, sir, I take my little porringer, The first that died was little Jane ; Till God released her of her pain; "So in the churchyard she was laid; And when the ground was white with snow, My brother John was forced to go, 66 And he lies by her side." How many are you, then?" said I, "If they two are in heaven?" The little maiden did reply: "Oh, master, we are seven !” But they are dead-those two are dead, 'T was throwing words away, for still TO THE RIVER DUDDON. I thought of thee, my partner and my guide, I see what was, and is, and will abide : Still glides the stream, and shall not cease to glide ; |