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I said my path -was pleasant here,
And friends were kind and true; But ah! the world looks hollow, drear— From its cold breath I shrink with fear
Which thousands never knew. There's a presentiment of gloom,
Perchance an early death; Which bids me linger near the tomb, And muse upon that hour of doom,
When I must yield my breath.
HOUE OF SUNRISE. From the tranquil brow of day, Ev'ry star has dropp'd away,
And' the mists of blue Rise along the winding streams, As the sun's first mellow beams
Pour in brightness through.
Fresh and still the dew-drop lies, Waiting to ascend the sides,
When the flower awakes; Silence chains the zephyr's wing, Nature's low-hush'd murmuring
Of the calm partakes.
Hour of sunrise, peaceful hour! Thou possessest wondrous power To enchant the heart—