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MUSINGS. 391 |
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Give back the sounds I have loved so long, The dashing waves and the woodbird's song, The twilight shades where the fire-flies wake, And all the scenes of my lonely lake !
1845.
MUSINGS. When another moon shall wane,
If standing'where I'm gazing now. What thought of agonizing pain
Shall be depicted on my brow ? Or, shall these intervening days
Bring s\ich a weight of earthy bliss, As to demand my willing praise,
And swell my heart with happiness ?
O ! what a depth of sacred joy
May soon unto my heart be given— Perchance, the sweets that never cloy,
The pleasures of my destined heaven ! Yea, ere another moon shall wane,
I may be sleeping cold and low, And evening shed her dewy rain,
Like mourners' tears, above my bro>vv.
Thou waning moon, thou waning moon !
Tell me, ere thou shalt fill thy horn, What thoughts of sweetness yet unknown
May be unto my spirit borne ? |
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