Front Cover
 Front Matter
 Back Cover

Title: Songs of seven
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00005012/00001
 Material Information
Title: Songs of seven
Physical Description: <5>, 29, <1> leaves : ill., port. ; 24 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Ingelow, Jean, 1820-1897
Welch, Bigelow & Co ( Printer )
Roberts Brothers (Boston, Mass.) ( Publisher )
University Press (Cambridge, Mass.) ( Printer )
Publisher: Roberts Brothers
Place of Publication: Boston
Manufacturer: University Press ; Welch, Bigelow, and Company
Publication Date: 1866
Copyright Date: 1866
Subject: Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Love -- Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry -- 1866   ( lcsh )
Gold stamped cloth (Binding) -- 1866   ( local )
Bldn -- 1866
Genre: Juvenile poetry   ( lcsh )
Children's poetry   ( lcsh )
Gold stamped cloth (Binding)   ( local )
poetry   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: United States -- Massachusetts -- Boston
United States -- Massachusetts -- Cambridge
General Note: Leaves decorated with red ruled border.
Statement of Responsibility: by Jean Inglow.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00005012
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: ltqf - AAA6277
notis - ALG4203
oclc - 02914682
alephbibnum - 002223947
lccn - 16018802

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Front Matter
        Front Matter 1
        Front Matter 2
        Front Matter 3
        Frontipiece 1
        Frontipiece 2
        Frontipiece 3
        Page 1
        Page 1a
        Page 2
        Page 2a
        Page 3
        Page 3a
        Page 4
        Page 4a
        Page 5
        Page 5a
        Page 6
        Page 6a
        Page 7
        Page 7a
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
    Back Cover
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
Full Text

"0 noon in the night I hav'e seen you sailing
A nd shining so round and low."

L1 I - -. d- I -I I ---~




Seven times One.


T HERE 'S no dew left on the daisies and clover,

There's no rain left in heaven:

I've said my "seven times" over and over,

Seven times one are seven.


rsl hH1d

Songs of Seven.

I am old, so old, I can write a letter;

My birthday lessons are done;

The lambs play always, they know no better;

They are only one times one.

0 moon in the night I have seen you sailing

And shining so round and low;

You were bright! ah bright! but your light is failing,-

You are nothing now but a bow.

You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven

That God has hidden your face?

I hope if you have you will soon be forgiven,

And shine again in your place.

O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow,

You've powdered your legs with gold!

O brave marsh marybuds, rich and yellow,

Give me your money to hold !

LX.d -M

L', --------- -------------r------p-r, -I -lk -I-

" The lambs play always, they know no better;
They are only one times one."

It------- It

hE -A m m

Songs of Seven.

0 columbine, open your folded wrapper,

Where two twin turtle-doves dwell!

0 cuckoopint, toll me the purple clapper

That hangs in your clear green bell!

And show me your nest with the young ones in it;

I will not steal them away;

I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet, -

I am seven times one to-day.

< ,

I -C-Os~. ~ C- ~ I

6y, d

, : --,-
/ 1_ -Z-
/4, ,1 _S;- --,-:

Seven times Two.


Y OU bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes,
How many soever they be,
And let the brown meadow-lark's note as he ranges
Come over, come over to me.



m MW

Songs of Seven.

Yet bird's clearest carol by fall or by swelling

No magical sense conveys,

And bells have forgotten their old art of telling

The fortune of future days.

"Turn again, turn again," once they rang cheerily,

While a boy listened alone;

Made his heart yearn .again, musing so wearily

All by himself on a stone.

Poor bells! I forgive you; your good days are over,

And mine, they are yet to be;

No listening, no longing shall aught, aught'discover:

You leave the story to me.

The foxglove shoots out of the green matted heather,

Preparing her hoods of snow;

She was idle, and slept till the sunshiny weather:

O, children take long to grow!


I -U.- I

"I wait for my story the birds cannot sing it,
Not one, as he sits on the tree."

F-_ - ,-I .

Songs of Seven.

I wish, and I wish that the spring \\()uul go faster,

Nor long summer bide so late;

And I could gr)o on like the foxglove and aster,

For some things are ill to wait.

I wait for the day when dear hearts shall discover,

While ldear hands are laid on my head,

" Tlh child is a woman,t thel book may close over,

For all the lessons are said."

I wait for nmy story-the birds cannot sing it,

Not one(, as he sits on the tree;

The bells cannot ring it, but long years, 0 bring it!

Such as I wish it to be.

LI~ '--I

LI1 I ~~---~---- ----- ~P1

Seven times Three.


I LEANED out of window, I smelt the white clover,

Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate;

"Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover-

Hush, nightingale, hush! 0, sweet nightingale, wait

Till I listen and hear

If a step draweth near,

For my love he is late!



111 1II

411 I-.'l

Songs of Seven.

SThe skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer,

A cluster of stars hangs like fruit in the tree,

The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer:

To what art thou listening, and what dost thou see ?

Let the star-clusters grow,

Let the .\vweet waters flow,

And cross quickly to me.

" You night moths that hover where honey brims over

From sycamore blossoms, or settle or sleep;

You glowworms, shine out, and the pathway discover

To him that comes darkling along the rough steep.

Ah, my sailor, make haste,

For the time runs to waste,

And my love lieth deep-

"Too deep for swift telling ; and yet, my one lover,

I've conned thee an answer, it waits thee to-night."


"1 lejitlPu t/ I t79'7 smell th cI' lover,
D)ark, dark was th/e IC A sai v0 not the gazte."

m 1 U

Sours of Seven.

By the sycamore passed lie, and through the white clover,

Then all the sweet speech I had fashioned took flight;

But I '11 love him more, more

Than e'er wife loved before,

Be the days dark or bright.



mI i


Seven times Four.


H EIGH-HO! daisies and buttercups.

Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall!

When the wind wakes how\ they rock in the grasses,

And dance with the cuckoo-buds slender and small!

Here's two bnny boys, and here's mother's own lasses,
Eager to gather them all.


, U-------------------- ----


.olthlr shall thread them a daisy chain;

Sing thl'i a song of the pretty hied.'ie s/Aarrow."

i .

~~5 ~~

~Sco/{gS of ~S'v7,f.

Heigh-lho! daisies and buttercups !

Mother shall thread them a daisy chain;

Sing them a song of the pretty hedge-sparrow,

That loved her brown little ones, loved them full fain;

Sing, "Heart, thou art wide though the house be but


Sing once, and sing it again.

Heigh-ho daisies and buttercups,

Sweet wagging cowslips, they bend and they bow;

A ship sails afar over warm ocean waters,

And haply one musing doth stand at her prow.

0 bonny brown sons, and 0 sweet little daughters,

Maybe he thinks on you now!

Heigh-ho! daisies and btttercups,

Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall!

A sunshiny world full of laughter and leisure,

And fresh hearts unconscious of sorrow and thrall!

Send down on their pleasure smiles passing its measure,

God that is over us all!


- -- -- --- ---- I

Seven times Five.


I SLEEP and rest, my heart makes moan
Before I am well awake;

Let me bleed! 0 let me alone,

Since I must not break !"


-w -- -

SonIgs of Seven.

For children wake, though fathers sleep)

With a stone at foot and at head

O sleepless God, forever keep,

Keep both living and dead!

I lift mine eyes, and what to see

But a world happy and fair!

I have not wished it to ,mo(urln with me, -

Comfort is not there.

O what near but golden broonis,

And a waste of reedy rills !

O what afar but the fine glooms

On the rare blue hills !

I shall not die, but live forlore-

How bitter it is to part !

O to meet thee, my love, ,nce more!

O my heart, my heart!




7 uh/al/ anz'ar 1 b ouol den ,: .

1 .11a 7f(aste /c r'eiey rills !

m -mI


Songs of Seven.

No more to hear, no more to see!

0 that an echo might wake

And waft one note of thy psalm to me

Ere my heart-strings break!

I should know it how faint soe'er,

And with angel voices blent;

O once to feel thy spirit anear,

I could be content !

Or once bet\\cen the gates of gold,

While an angel entering trod,

But once- thee sitting to behold

On the hills of God!



Seven times Six.


T O0 bear, to nurse, to rear,

To watch, and then to lose:

To see my bright ones disappear,

Drawn up like morning de\s ; -

To bear, to nurse, to rear,

To watch, and then to lose:



111 _ ___ I I __

Sow/Is of Secn.

This have I done x\hen God drew near

Among his \n to choose.

To hear, to heed, to wed,

And with thy lord depart

In tears that he, as soon as shed,

Will let no longer sma it. -

To hear, to heed, to wed,

Tlhis while thou didst I smiled,

For now,\ it was not God who said,

Motlher, give M iI. thy child."

O fond, 0 fool, and blind,

To God I gave witl tears;

But when a man like grace \would find,

lMy soul1 put by her fears.

O fond, 0 fool, and blind,

God guards in happier spheres ;

That man \\ill guard where he did Lind

Is hope for unknow(l < ,n years.


EU. Eu.

)~t-----------~------~~ ~Y


A qp

" To hear, to heed, to wed,

AIi:de with thy lord d/1-1,,rt."

m nE

~Jj )II/


Songs of Sevcn.

To haIr, to heed, to wed,

Fair lot that maidens choose,

Thy mother's tenderest worlds are said,

Thy face no more she views;

Thy mother's lot, my dear,

She doth in naLught accuse;

Her lot to bear, to nurse, to rear,

To love and then to lose.


EKE El. _..~.. J __~_.II_

im wplmqm

Seven times Seven.



A SONG of a boat:
There was once a boat on a billow:

Lightly she rocked to her port remote,

And the foam wxas white in her wake like snow,

And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow,

And bent like a wand of willow.


,, 1

.So/igs of S'tewu.


I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat

Went curtseying over the billow,

I marked her course till a dancing mote

She faded out on the moonlit foam,

And I stayed behclind in the dear loved home;

And my thoughts all day were about the boat,

And my dreams upon the pillow.


I pray you hear my song of a boat,

For it is but short:-

My boat, you shall find none fairer afloat,

In river or port.

Long I looked out for the lad she bore,

On the open desolate sea,

And I think he sailed to the heavenly shore,

For he came not back to me -

Ah me!


ir__________.J---------l 4r


" There is the home 7 here .'.'A., are sent,
The only home for me-
.? me !'

Iii pI


.... -

Songs of Seven.


A song of a nest:-

There was once a nest in a hollow:

Down in the mosses and knot-grass pressed,

Soft and warm, and full to the brim.

Vetches leaned over it purple and dim,

With buttercup buds to follow.


I pray you hear my song of a nest,

For it is not long :-

You shall never light, in a summer quest

The bushes among-

Shall never light on a prouder sitter,

A fairer nestful, nor ever know

A softer sound than their tender twitter,

That wind-like did come and go.


Songs of Seven.


I had a nestful once of my own,

Ah happy, happy I!

Right dearly I loved them: but when they were grown

They spread out their wings to fly.

0, one after one they flew away

Far up to the heavenly blue,

To the better country, the upper day,

And -I wish I was going too.


I pray you, what is the nest to me,

My empty nest ?

And what is the shore where I stood to see

My boat sail down to the west ?

Can I call that home where I anchor yet,

Though my good man has sailed ?

Can I call that home where my nest was set,

Now all its hope hath failed ?


m. m


mIni _Lmu

Songs of Seven.

Nay, but the port where my sailor went,

And the land where my nestlings be:

There is the home where my thoughts are sent,

The only home for me -

Ah me






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