You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.
20. Oh, call my Brother back again.
CHILD.
Oh, call my brother back again,
I cannot play alone;
The summer comes with flow'r and bee;
Where is my brother gone?
Oh! call my brother back to me,
I cannot play alone.
The butterfly is glancing bright
Across the sunbeam's track;
I care not now to chase its flight—
Oh! call my brother back.
Oh! call, &c.
The flowers run wild—the flowers we sow'd
Around our garden-tree;
Our vine is drooping with its load—
Oh! call him back to me.
Oh! call, &c.
MOTHER.
He would not hear my voice, fair child!
He may not come to thee;
The face that once like spring-time smiled
On earth no more thou'lt see!
Thy brother is in heaven, my boy,
And thou must play alone.
