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EVENING SHADOWS. 41
And some will still live on, fill their existence shall a burden prove; TDl hopes and fiiends have perish'd, one by one,
And they have naught to love.
Ah ! who shall count the tears, The weary days and nights of restless strife ? And who may know the yearning hopes and fears
That throng their path of life ?
But one thing we may know; They 're forming characters not yet complete, And we may help to mould them here below
For an immortal state.
Evening shadows softly steal
Through the lattice now, And a sadness, dark and still,
Falls upon my brow.
Evening shadows—see, they come
With a solemn tread, Sable mourners by the tomb
Of the daylight fled.
Evening shadows—0, how deep They are gathering now! They shall fold their wings in sleep i» >Darkly o'er my brow. . -= —i