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306 FOREST MELODIES.
Do they not shadow forth
The soul's immortal birth ? Do they not whisper of a wondrous doom ?
These busy dreams of ours
Show that the mind has powers Which must survive the terrors of the tomb.
We sleep, but busy thought
Seeks out the hallow'd spot Which those we dearly love are treading now;
Our hearts again rejoice,
We listen to the voice, And gaze upon the dear, unalter'd brow.
We hold communion sweet
With hearts that fondly beat, Throbbing for us in this cold world of woe:
0 happy, happy dreams!
Sending forth blissful gleams, Ye make our waking path with beauty glow,
Ah, yes! ye shadow forth
The soul's immortal birth, Surely ye whisper of a life to come;
Where restless souls like ours •
May try their wondrous powers, Powers that defy the terrors of the tomb.