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SUNSHINE. 225
There grow the flowers, the last to/be f&rgot, Where the dim sunbeam shines!
" 0 ! bear us swifter onward, rolling tide,
On to our blissful home— There, there are hearts, and arms, that open wide—-
Sweet friends, to you we eome !
" Kay, nay! our feet may never press that shore;
Our hearts, that beat so high— To us 'tis given, as life's last dream is o'er,
In sight of home to die!"
1848. |
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SUNSHINE.
Who does not love the sunshine,
Whether its genial glow Falls on* the dewy greensward,
Or on the pearly snow ? For there is something cheering
In its unclouded rays, When o'er the troubled spirit • Gathers a dimming haze. .-• 0! the spirit is connected,
By a mysterious chain Of secret, golden sympathies, To this dark world of pain. 15 |
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