Ere a tear had learn'd to flow

Now it lies upon a grave,

Ah, so very long ago!

[pg 71]

While I sat singing, steps came on the path,

Outside the window—what marvel is this?

Steady and solemn, they make my heart wrath,

Steps come towards me, and they are not his!

Steps in the night time pass up to my door;

Then comes a knocking might waken the dead:

Instead of one Harry there must be four,

Only not one has his light springy tread.

My old nurse's son to sea ran away—

At a 'Norwester,' or gale from the South,

I've heard the poor woman tremblingly say

The sound 'brought her heart up into her mouth!'

[pg 72]

I, little prattler, crouched down at her feet,

Would stop aghast in my innocent play,

Wondering, will she be able to eat,

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