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FOREST MELODIES. |
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But my hopes were quench'd in darkness, Early quench'd within the tomb;
Death's cold hand eclipsed their brightnes-Veil'd them in the deepest gloom.
Theron stands upon Mount Zion, Clad in garments wash'd with blood,
Drinking from that living fountain, Springing from the throne of God ! |
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A CAUSE FOR SADNESS. Thou askest wherefore sadness flings
Its darkness o'er my sky ? And when I touch the tuneful strings, Thou askest why their murmurings
Are Blended with a sigh ?
This question I have long since heard
From many lips before, With many a harsh, reproachful word, And many a tone by kindness stirr'd,
Which I shall hear no more.
How shall I answer ? Sure this heart
Hath often, often bled! Hath often felt the bitter smart, The fearful pang when friends depart,
To mingle with the dead. . |
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