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THE PLAYMATES.
“The natural man receiveth not the things that be of
the Spirit of God, neither indeed can he; for these two are
contrary the one to the other.”
—St. Paul.
“Then I heard a voice, extremely sweet and clear—the
voice of an angel—repeat: John Woolman is dead; and I
knew not what these words might signify, seeing that I
remained yet in the body; but the voice continued yet to
repeat clearly, John Woolman is dead, then I understood
them to refer to the death of my natural will.”
—John Woolman's Diary.
I had a playmate sweet and wild,
We were born together, I and he,
And well did I love him, as youth and as child
Oft would we chide and yet still agree.
We were born together, I and he,
And well did I love him, as youth and as child
Oft would we chide and yet still agree.
Oft would we chide though I loved him well,
Then was I told by a stern decree,
Never could we together dwell,
One must perish, I or he;
Then was I told by a stern decree,
Never could we together dwell,
One must perish, I or he;
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Yet was our day together sweet,
Yet was our night together dear,
He was ever the first my step to greet,
I loved him absent, I loved him near.
Yet was our night together dear,
He was ever the first my step to greet,
I loved him absent, I loved him near.
Our nay was kind, and sweet our yea,
His doom was from Heaven and not from me,
Never had I had the heart to slay
My brother that was so dear to me;
His doom was from Heaven and not from me,
Never had I had the heart to slay
My brother that was so dear to me;
I saw him fade in a still decay,
He sank at my side while our youth was glad,
And the light from the valley died away,
And the hills
seemed many, and dark and sad;
He sank at my side while our youth was glad,
And the light from the valley died away,
And the hills
“Here lieth one
Who danced and pleased the people.”
Who danced and pleased the people.”
Inscription found at Antibes—
D. M. Pueri Septentri, annos 12, qui Antipoli in Theatro saltavit et placuit.
“To the manes of the boy Septentrion, aged 12, who appeared twice on the stage at Antibes, danced and pleased.”
“I know nothing,” says Michelet, “more tragic than the brevity of this inscription, or which makes one more sensible of the hardness of the Roman world.”
And I find now not though the world be wide,
I find not any I love so well,
And I deem he will run again by my side
Through some sweet abiding miracle.
I find not any I love so well,
And I deem he will run again by my side
Through some sweet abiding miracle.
Now there blossoms for me a heavenly vine,
And in Heaven is a rose-tree blooming free,
But the wild sweet briar and the red-berry wine
Had been joy enough for him and for me.
And in Heaven is a rose-tree blooming free,
But the wild sweet briar and the red-berry wine
Had been joy enough for him and for me.
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