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FOREST MELODIES. |
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When the spirit looks up for the starlight of heaven, And the sun of existence shines out, and is gone. - '
1849.
THE DYING MOTHER. I had not thought to die "so soon, My sun has not yet reach'd the noon
Of life's short, transient day ; Friends, ardent friends, are kind and true, And hopes, as fresh as morning dew,
Were glist'ning in my way.
Death has been farthest from my heart, I deem'd not I must soon depart
Into his mystic clime ; I had not thought the fun'ral knell So soon upon the breeze would swell,
To speak my flight from time.
But I must go,—yet bring me now The babe, upon whose fair young brow
I Ve gazed so oft in pride ; Ah ! who shall list, when I am gone, In pity to its wailing moan ?
And who shall be its guide ?
Who watch the path its feet may tread, With blessing for its youthful head ? And who its griofs will share ? |
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