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Farther on is glowing Spring's enchanting light,
And her breath is wooing Hill and valley bright.
Spring! I may not meet thee When the storms are goneó
I shall never greet thee On the verdant lawn!
I must pass forever
From this land of bloom, And thy breath of fervour
Steal around my tomb.
Autumn's wing is o'er me, Hazy, calm, and mild;
Winter is before me With its tempests wild.
Thus death's frigid winter
Lies before me now; Soon his wing of terror
Will o'erspread my brow.
But a spring-time glorious Waits me in yon clime;
I shall be victorious Over Death and Time.