'We can't see them.
They never come to play with us, or talk to us.

Be what you are.

You are better so.' 'I do not understand you,' said the child.

'Tell me what you mean.' 'Why, they say,' replied the boy, looking up into her face, that you will be an Angel, before the birds sing again.

But you won't be, will you?
Don't leave us Nell, though the sky is bright.