Tuesday, May 30, 2006

We Are Seven

by William Wordsworth

--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 about, 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 sunset, 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 brother 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!"

However many days, weeks, months or years pass, let us never forget our brother John and that with him, we will always be seven.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

That was so nice, Katie. It really touched my heart. I love you all, my seven children.
Love, Mom

May 30, 2006 11:37 PM  
Blogger Tater said...

We will always be seven. Now and eternally in Heaven. I've joined Change Point again. I want God to take control of my life, I can't do it myself anymore.

May 31, 2006 8:40 AM  
Blogger coolskool said...

Beautiful!!! Family is everything...thanks for the reminder.

June 01, 2006 7:29 AM  
Blogger realityjunkie said...

Wow, Katie. What a perfect poem. You are so full of grace and love even at this hard time. I'm glad to read what Tater wrote. It is amazing when we realize how much easier life is with God than without. God bless your journey Tater.

June 01, 2006 10:13 AM  
Blogger auntibeck said...

I am so moved by your heart, by Tater's words as well...in the midst of such loss God is giving grace.

The poem is unbelievable, isn't it? I often think of that very thing, the spirit is very much alive even after the body is gone and I'm so happy that in Heaven we will know our loved ones that have gone on before. Such a great poem...

June 01, 2006 10:46 AM  

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