We sought in the wood, and we found the wood-wren in her stead; In the field, and we found but the cuckoo that talked overhead; By the brook, and we found the reed-sparrow deep-nested, in brown-- Not Echo, fair Echo! for Echo, sweet Echo! was flown. So we came to the place where the dead people wait till God call. The church was among them, grey moss over roof, over wall. Very silent, so low. And we stood on a green grassy mound And looked in at a window, for Echo, perhaps, in her round Might have come in to hide there. But no; every oak-carven seat Was empty. We saw the great Bible--old, old, very old, And the parson's great Prayer-book beside it; we heard the slow beat Of the pendulum swing in the tower; we saw the clear gold Of a sunbeam float down to the aisle and then waver and play On the low chancel step and the railing, and Oliver said, 'Look, Katie! look, Katie! when Lettice came here to be wed She stood where that sunbeam drops down, and all white was her gown; And she stepped upon flowers they strew'd for her.' Then quoth small Seven: 'Shall I wear a white gown and have flowers to walk upon ever?' All doubtful: 'It takes a long time to grow up,' quoth Eleven; 'You're so little, you know, and the church is so old, it can never Last on till you're tall.' And in whispers--because it was old And holy, and fraught with strange meaning, half felt, but not told, Full of old parsons' prayers, who were dead, of old days, of old folk, Neither heard nor beheld, but about us, in whispers we spoke. Then we went from it softly and ran hand in hand to the strand, While bleating of flocks and birds' piping made sweeter the land. And Echo came back e'en as Oliver drew to the ferry, 'O Katie!' 'O Katie!' 'Come on, then!' 'Come on, then!' 'For, see, The round sun, all red, lying low by the tree'--'by the tree.' 'By the tree.' Ay, she mocked him again, with her voice sweet and merry: 'Hie over!' 'Hie over!' 'You man of the ferry'--'the ferry.' 'You man of the ferry-- You man of--you man of--the ferry.' Ay, here--it was here that we woke her, the Echo of old; All life of that day seems an echo, and many times told. Shall I cross by the ferry to-morrow, and come in my white To that little low church? and will Oliver meet me anon? Will it all seem an echo from childhood pass'd over--pass'd on? Will the grave parson bless us? Hark, hark! in the dim failing light I hear her! As then the child's voice clear and high, sweet and merry Now she mocks the man's tone with 'Hie over! Hie over the ferry!' 'And, Katie.' 'And, Katie.' 'Art out with the glow-worms to-night, My Katie?' 'My Katie?' For gladness I break into laughter And tears. Then it all comes again as from far-away years; Again, some one else--oh, how softly!--with laughter comes after, Comes after--with laughter comes after. PRELUDES TO A PENNY READING. _A Schoolroom._ _SCHOOLMASTER (_not certificated_), VICAR, _and_ CHILD.