1.Suppose，my little lady，Your doll should break her head，Could you make it whole by crying Till your nose and eyes were red？
And wouldn’t it be pleasanter To treat it as a joke，And say you‘re glad “’twas Dolly‘s And not your head that broke”？
2.Suppose you’re dressed for walking，And the rain comes pouring down，Will it clear off any sooner Because you scold and frown？
And wouldn‘t it be nicer For you to smile than pout，And so make sunshine in the house，When there is none without？
3.Suppose your task，my little man，Is very hard to get，Will it make it any easier For you to sit and fret？And wouldn’t it be wiser，Than waiting like a dunce，To go to work in earnest，And learn the thing at once？
4.Suppose that some boys have a horse，And some a coach and pair，Will it tire you less，while walking，To say，“It isn‘t fair”？
And wouldn’t it be nobler To keep your temper sweet，And in your heart be thankfulYou can walk upon your feet？
5.And suppose the world don‘t please you Nor the way some people do，Do you think the whole creation Will be altered just for you？
And isn’t it，my boy or girl，The wisest，bravest plan，Whatever comes or doesn‘t come，To do the best you can？
WE ARE SEVEN
1.I met a little cottage girl，She was eight years old，she said；Her hair was thick with many a curlThat clustered round her head.
2.“Sisters and brothers，little maid，How many may you be？”
“How many？seven in all，”she said，And，wondering，looked at me.
3.“And where are they，I pray you tell？”She answered，“Seven are we：
And two of us at Conway dwell，And two are gone to sea；4.”Two of us in the churchyard lie，My sister and my brother；And in the churchyard cottage I Dwell near them with my mother.“5.”You say that two at Conway dwell，And two are gone to sea；Yet you are seven：I pray you tell，Sweet maid，how this may be？“6.Then did the little maid reply，“Seven boys and girls are we：
Two of us in the churchyard lie，Beneath the churchyard tree.”
7.“You run about，my little maid，Your limbs they are alive；If two are in the churchyard laid，Then ye are only five.”
8.“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.
9.”My stockings there I often knit，My kerchief there I hem；And there upon the ground I sit，-I sit and sing to them.
10.“And often after sunset，sir，When it is light and fair，I take my little porringer And eat my supper there.
11.”The first that died was little Jane：In bed she moaning lay，Till God relieved her of her pain，And then she went away.
12.“So in the churchyard she was laid；And，all the summer dry，Together round her grave we played，My brother John and I13.”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.“14.”How many are you，then，“said I，“If they two are in heaven？”
The little maiden would reply，“O master！we are seven.”
15.“But they are dead，those two are dead，Their spirits are in heaven.”-‘Twas throwing words away；for stillThe little maid would have her will，And said，“Nay，we are seven.”
THE CHILD’S FIRST GRIEF
1.“Oh，call my brother back to me！
I cannot play alone ；
The summer comes with flower and bee-Where is my brother gone？
2.”The butterfly is glancing bright Across the sunbeam‘s track；I care not now to chase its flight-Oh，call my brother back！
3.“The flowers run wild-the flowers we sowed Around our garden tree；Our vine is drooping with its load-Oh，call him back to me！”
4.“He could not hear thy voice，fair child！
He may not come to thee；
The face that once like spring-time smiled，On earth no more thou’lt see.
5.”A rose‘s brief，bright life of joy，Such unto him was given.
Go；thou must play alone，my boy！
Thy brother is in heaven.
6.And has he left his birds and flowers？
And must I call in vain？
And through the long，long summer hours，Will he not come again？
7.“And by the brook and in the glade Are all our wanderings o’er？
Oh，while my brother with me played，Would I had loved him more！”
