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166 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE.
Earth looks bright, and hopes arc beaming
All around my way ; And my spirit has been dreaming
Of a longer stay.
But this restless, high ambition,
And this hope sublime, May not yield their full fruition
On the shore of time.
And the lofty thoughts aspiring,
Ranging unconfincd; And the quenchless, deep desiring
Of the immortal mind—
Say, must these be quench'd forever
In an early tomb ? They will never, never, never
Be eclipsed in gloom.
Earthly friends must shortly fail me,
Earthly hopes must' die, But far truer friends will hail me |
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In a holier sky.
Hark ! that mystic voice is calling
Soft and low; Death's dark mists arc round mc ft |
9
hng— |
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I must go! |
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