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nst the dusky night sky. As black and immovable as the silent fir-trees you solemnly slumber beneath, Whilst I wakefully meditate on a glorious past, and painfully ponder the future, as the dews fall over the Heath. [Footnote 6: Heath bed-straw (_Galium Saxatile_). This white-flowered bed-straw grows profusely on Hampstead Heath.] THE PROMISE. CHILD. Five blue eggs hatching, With bright eyes watching, Little brown mother, you sit on your nest. BIRD. Oh! pass me blindly, Oh! spare me kindly, Pity my terror, and leave me to rest. CHORUS OF CHILDREN. Hush! hush! hush! 'Tis a poor mother thrush. When the blue eggs hatch, the brown birds will sing-- This is a promise made in the Spring. CHILD. Five speckled thrushes In leafy bushes Singing sweet songs to the hot Summer sky. In and out twitting, Here and there flitting, Happy is life as the long days go by. CHORUS. Hush! hush! hush! 'Tis the song of the thrush: Hatched are the blue eggs; the brown birds do sing-- Keeping the promise made in the Spring. Published in _Aunt Judy's Magazine_, July 1866, with music by Alexander Ewing. CONVALESCENCE. Hold my hand, little Sister, and nurse my head, whilst I try to remember the word, What was it?--that the doctor says is now fairly established both in me and my bird. C-O-N-_con_, _with a con_, S-T-A-N-_stan_, _with a stan_--No! That's Constantinople, that is The capital of the country where rhubarb-and-magnesia comes from, and I wish they would keep it in that country, and not send it to this. C-O-N-_con_--how my head swims! Now I've got it! C-O-N-V-A-L-E-S-C-E-N-C-E. _Convalescence!_ And that's what the doctor says is now fairly established both in my blackbird and me. He says it means that you are better, and that you'll be well by and by. And so the Sea-captain says, and he says we ought to be friends, because we're both convalescents--at least we're all three convalescents, my blackbird, and the Captain and I. He's a sea-captain, not a land-captain, bu
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