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A LOST SPIRIT, 8? |
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How oft at even I roam'd abroad, When it seem'd that her own mild eye
Look'd down from the floating sunset cloud, In the gorgeous summer sky!
0 ! tell me not that childhood's tears
And sorrows are but brief; There's darkness cast o'er coming years
By the first cloud of grief.
A LOST SPIRIT.
We stood around the bier, And many wept a dearly loved one taken ; Yes, many a sigh and many a falling tear
Bespoke a heart forsaken.
And wherefore do they mourn ? A blank was at the fireside he had left, For Death stole by, at manhood's early morn,
And made a home bereft.
They wept that he was gone; Mourn'd for the happy hours forever fled— Ah! many a heart, left desolate and lone,
Wept for the early dead.
Tears will be shed in gloom When kindred ties by death are rudely sever'd; But 0, what tears shall mourn the fearful doom
Of a spirit lost forever! |
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