THE SISTERLESS. And still when she comes back again, while all is fresh and new To hear of all that she has seen,-the wondrous things and fair, "Not one I love so well as thee." But this was at the first; Upon a low seat by the fire she sat one night, and leant Her cheek upon her hand, and while her drooping head she bent To me, the warm light streamed around, and seemed her brow to bless More bright than were the scarlet flowers that I was wreathing then Will I take, Amy, all this pains to make thee gay and fair, That never bringest me a word of all that passes there, To pay me for my lovely flowers: make much of these, and prize I wept; but not, as Amy thought, in fear to lose her love, -DORA GREENWELL. THE SISTERLESS. "WHEN will my sister come, dear nurse? Oh! when will my sister come? Will my sister ever come to me To share my little room, To sleep in my little bed at night, "Oh! now when summer is so bright She should not stay away! Why should I have no sister When dear mamma has three? How happy I should be! That were it cold as Christmas-time If she should come in the winter, And she should be our star; You would tell us tales, you know, Of dwarfs and giants fierce, that lived And she would be our fairy, nurse, So mirthful and so wise! And we would talk to her, and she And she would stretch her soft round arms And stroke our faces with her hands To kiss her we would creep! "But if she came in the spring, dear nurse, But if she came in the spring, When the winds blow mild from the soft warm south, And the bird is on the wing: If the wind would blow her unto us, THE SISTERLESS. How happy should we be, When the blossom hangs upon the flower, And the bud upon the tree; When the swallow comes across the sea, And the lark is springing high, As if he meant to sing his song To angels in the sky! And to each other the sweet birds At early morning call; But we should think her little voice "When the yellow palm is waving light, We find her hidden low; And from the hedge the primrose looks And in the fields and by the brooks Then as the days grew long, dear nurse, There we would search about for flowers, And weave upon her head a crown, And chains around her neck, The purple orchis, with the vetch But not a flower among them all "But if she came in the summer, nurse, But if she came to-day, She is the only thing we want, All looks so fresh and gay. Now, when the summer sun rides high, It seems so strange that only I And I that cannot follow them And watch the dragon-fly flit past The birds sing high above my head, But I know not what they say, And I wish your fairies had not gone, Dear nurse, so far away; "But if our baby were but here Beside us in the shade, I would not wish a fairy here, They would leave some changeling in her place, Yes! they would take our baby dear And we could not spare our little flower "I would show her where with cool green leaf The water-lilies float With cup of pearl upon the stream, A little magic boat. I would take her where the foxgloves grow So tall within the dell, And every finger soft and white Should wear a purple bell. Where in the woods the arum springs, And the blue harebell gently rings Its faint low chime at eve. I would take her where the fields smell sweet The grasshopper beneath our feet "And if she came in autumn, nurse,— If we looked the first upon her face In silver streams of light, And seem to watch her in her sleep With gentle angel eyes. If she should come in the autumn, nurse, It takes so much away, That it should bring her unto us To cheer the shortening day; When ripening on the sunny walls We see the velvet peach, But in the brake the pheasant brocds, Creak on their homeward way. If she should come in autumn, nurse, As he bears the last well-ripened sheaf Would not be half so glad as ours, If autumn brought her unto us, To cheer the shortening day, We should not miss our birds and flowers, And she should never know, dear nurse, O little sister, you do wrong -DORA GREENWELL. |