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Then all I gaze upon, however bright, In nature's fields of harmony and light, Calls forth a tear.
"It was not thus ere death had cross'd my
path ; Ere life's tremendous storms, in all their wrath,
Burst o'er my head,— It was not thus, for I remember well, When from the sunny stream and flowery dell,
No ray had fled.
"The fragrant flowers must now be just as
bright, And just as rich the sunset's mellow light;
But o'er them all There seem to gather vapours of thick gloom— Yea, on the bosom of earth's sweetest bloom,
There seems a pall!
" See now, the summer's beauties all have flown, And autumn's pensive smiles have left us lone 1
But Faith's clear eye Looks upward to a land where fadeless flowers, And hopes, more sweet than cheer this world of ours,
Shall never die.