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154 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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As travelers oft look back at eve,
When eastward darkly going, To gaze upon that light they leave
Still faint behind them glowing,__
So, when the close of pleasure's day
To gloom hath near consigned us, We turn to catch one fading ray
Of joy that's left behind us. |
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AT THE MID HOUR OF NIGHT
AT the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions
of air, To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, And tell me our love is remembered, even in the sky.
Then I sing the wild song 'twas once such pleasure to hear !
When our voices commingling breathed, like one, on the ear; And, as Echo far off through the vale my sad orison
rolls, I think, O my love! 'tis thy voice from the Kingdom of Souls,
Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear. |
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