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FOREST MELODIES. |
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And found us in our stroll afar, Intently gazing on that star: I look'd upon her girlish brow,
And something strange was there; It sweetly caught the sunset's glow,
And seem'd surpassing fair.
And now, in poverty's drear vale, Where meagre want is wand'ring pale, Where suns of grandeur never gleam. That star so brilliant sheds its beam ; Its rays fall on a wretched home.
And gladness gathers there; It ever shines amid the gloom,—
My friend is that sweet star.
AN EXOTIC. Stranger flower, whence dost thou come,
With thy languid, beamless eye ? And thy slender, fragile form,
Trembling at the zephyr's sigh? I never heard thy name,
Nor saw thy form before— They ask me whence it came,
This palo exotic flower.
Thou 'rt from the distant west, Where wild sweet-scented flowers |
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