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"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.

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care.

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,1
"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 !"

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"Retine vim istam, falsa enim dicam, si coges."-EUSEBIUS.

[This was suggested in front of Alfoxden. The Boy was a son of my friend, Basil Montague, who had been two or three years under our The name of Kilve is from a village on the Bristol Channel, about a mile from Alfoxden; and the name of Liswyn Farm was taken from a beautiful spot on the Wye, where Mr Coleridge, my sister, and I had been visiting the famous John Thelwall, who had taken refuge from politics, after a trial for high treason, with a view to bring up his family by the profits of agriculture, which proved as unfortunate a speculation as that he had fled from. Coleridge and he had both been public lecturers; Coleridge mingling, with his politics, Theology, from which the other elocutionist abstained, unless it was for the sake of a sneer. This quondam community of public employment induced Thelwall to visit Coleridge at Nether Stowey, where he fell in my way. He really was a man of extraordinary talent, an affectionate husband, and a good father. Though brought up in the City, he was truly sensible of the beauty of natural objects. I remember once, when Coleridge, he, and I were seated together upon the turf on the brink of a stream in the most beautiful part of the most beautiful glen of Alfoxden, Coleridge exclaimed, "This is a place to reconcile one to all

1

1836.

The little Maiden did reply.

1798.

the jarrings and conflicts of the wide world." "Nay," said Thelwall, "to make one forget them altogether." The visit of this man to Coleridge was, as I believe Coleridge has related, the occasion of a spy being sent by government to watch our proceedings, which were, I can say with truth, such as the world at large would have thought ludicrously harmless.]

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I HAVE a boy of five years old;

His face is fair and fresh to see;
His limbs are cast in beauty's mould,
And dearly he loves me.

One morn we strolled on our dry walk,
Our quiet home all full in view,
And held such intermitted talk
As we are wont to do.

1802.

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My thoughts on former pleasures ran;
I thought of Kilve's delightful shore,
Our pleasant home when spring began,1
A long, long year before.

A day it was when I could bear
Some fond regrets to entertain;2
With so much happiness to spare,
I could not feel a pain.

The green earth echoed to the feet

Of lambs that bounded through the glade,

From shade to sunshine, and as fleet
From sunshine back to shade.3

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Birds warbled round me-and each trace

Of inward sadness had its charm;
Kilve, thought I, was a favoured place,
And so is Liswyn farm.

My boy beside me tripped, so slim
And graceful in his rustic dress!
And, as we talked, I questioned him,
In very idleness.1

"Now tell me, had you rather be,"

I said, and took him by the arm,

"On Kilve's smooth shore, by the green sea, Or here at Liswyn farm?" 2

In careless mood he looked at me,
While still I held him by the arm,
And said, "At Kilve I'd rather be
Than here at Liswyn farm."

My boy was by my side, so slim
And graceful in his rustic dress !
And oftentimes I talked to him,
In very idleness.

And as we talked I questioned him
In very idleness.

My boy beside me tripped, so slim, &c

"My little boy, which like you more,"
I said, and took him by the arm-
"Our home by Kilve's delightful shore,
Or here at Liswyn farm?"

"And tell me, had you rather be,"

I said, and held him by the arm,

"At Kilve's smooth shore by the green sea,
Or here at Liswyn farm?"

1798.

1827.

1836.

1798.

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"For, here are woods, hills smooth and warm :1
There surely must some reason be

Why you would change sweet Liswyn farm
For Kilve by the green sea."

At this, my boy hung down his head,
He blushed with shame, nor made reply; 2
And three times to the child I said,

"Why, Edward, tell me why?" 8

His head he raised-there was in sight,
It caught his eye, he saw it plain—
Upon the house-top, glittering bright,
A broad and gilded vane.

Then did the boy his tongue unlock,
And eased his mind with this reply:
"At Kilve there was no weather-cock;
And that's the reason why."

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