And I must think, do all I can, If I these thoughts may not prevent, THE TWO APRIL MORNINGS. WE walked along, while bright and red And Matthew stopped, he looked, and said, "The will of God be done!" A village schoolmaster was he, As blithe a man as you could see On a spring holiday. And on that morning, through the grass, And by the streaming rills, We travelled merrily, to pass A day among the hills. "Our work," said I, was well begun ; Then, from thy breast what thought, So sad a sigh has brought?" A second time did Matthew stop; And fixing still his eye Upon the eastern mountain-top, To me he made reply: "And just above yon slope of corn Such colours, and no other, Were in the sky, that April morn, Of this the very brother. "With rod and line I sued the sport Which that sweet season gave, And, coming to the church, stopped short Beside my daughter's grave. "Nine summers had she scarcely seen, The pride of all the vale; And then she sang ;-she would have been A very nightingale ! "Six feet in earth my Emma lay; And yet I loved her more, For so it seemed, than till that day I e'er had loved before. "And, turning from her grave, I met, A blooming Girl, whose hair was wet "A basket on her head she bare; Her brow was smooth and white: To see a child so very fair, It was a pure delight! "No fountain from its rocky cave E'er tripped with foot so free ; She seemed as happy as a wave That dances on the sea. "There came from me a sigh of pain Which I could ill confine; |