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THE MOTHERLESS CHILD. 275 |
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Sweet Augusta, thou didst leave us,
Like all loveliest things; While we gazed, thy form was passmg
On angelic wings!
But thy raem'ry lingers round us,—
It can never die! Like a magic chain, it binds us
To a holier sky! |
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THE MOTHERLESS CHILD. While in those sable weeds array'd, With such a sweetly mournful shade
On thy young brow, Pour forth thy tears upon my breast; Tell me, if not too much distress'd,
Thy tale of woe; That flood of,grief, so long repress'd,
Now let it flow. ■
O, I can join in childhood's glee! I love its merry laughter free; '
But ah! 1 dread To see a shadow like a pall, Over its cheek of roses fall,
Whence joy has fled! Tell me thy sorrow, tell me all—
Dost mourn the dead ? |
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