" SWEET Ellen More, " said I, " come forth
Beneath the sunny sky;
Why stand you musing all alone,
With such an anxious eye?
What is it, child, that aileth you? "
And thus she made reply:

" The fields are green, the skies are bright,
The leaves are on the tree,
And 'mong the sweet flowers of the thyme
Far flies the honey-bee;
And the lark hath sung since morning prime
And merrily singeth he.

" Yet not for this shall I go forth
On the open hills to play,
There's not a bird that singeth now,
Would tempt me hence to stray; —
I would not leave our cottage door
For a thousand flowers to-day!

" And why? " said I, " what is there here
Beside your cottage door,
To make a merry girl like you
Thus idly stand to pore?
There is a mystery in this thing, —
Now tell me, Ellen More! "

The fair girl looked into my face,
With her dark and serious eye;
Silently awhile she looked,
Then heaved a quiet sigh;
And, with a half-reluctant will,
Again she made reply.

" Three years ago, unknown to us,
When nuts were on the tree,
Even in the pleasant harvest-time,
My brother went to sea —
Unknown to us, to sea he went,
And a woful house were we.

" That winter was a weary time,
A long, dark time of wo,
For we knew not in what ship he sailed,
And vainly sought to know;
And day and night the loud, wild winds
Seemed evermore to blow.

" My mother lay upon her bed,
Her spirit solely tossed
With dismal thoughts of storm and wreck
Upon some savage coast;
But morn and eve we prayed to Heaven
That he might not be lost.

" And when the pleasant spring came on,
And fields again were green,
He sent a letter full of news,
Of the wonders he had seen;
Praying us to think him dutiful
As he afore had been.

" The tidings that came next were from
A sailor old and gray,
Who saw his ship at anchor lie
In the harbor at Bombay;
But he said my brother pined for home,
And wished he were away.

" Again he wrote a letter long,
Without a word of gloom;
And soon, and very soon he said,
He should again come home;
I watched, as now, beside the door,
And yet he did not come.

" I watched and watched, but I knew not then
It would be all in vain;
For very sick he lay the while,
In a hospital in Spain. —
Ah, me! I fear my brother dear
Will ne'er come home again!

" And now I watch — for we have heard
That he is on his way,
And the letter said, in very truth,
He would be here to-day.
Oh! there's no bird that singeth now
Could tempt me hence away! "

— That self-same eve I wandered down
Unto the busy strand,
Just as a little boat came in
With people to the land;
And 'mongst them was a sailor-boy
Who leaped upon the sand.

I knew him by his dark blue eyes,
And by his features fair;
And as he leaped ashore he sang
A simple Scottish air, —
" There's nae place like our ain dear hame
To be met wi' onywhere! "