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THROUGH ITS LONG NIGHT OF GLOOM.
'Tis like the Elfin tale,
Where the fairest and the best
Were ever singled forth
To perish ere the rest.
'Tis a garden, whence each flower
In brightest beauty nurst,
And the sweetest 'neath the shower
Is torn away the first.
Where the fairest and the best
Were ever singled forth
To perish ere the rest.
'Tis a garden, whence each flower
In brightest beauty nurst,
And the sweetest 'neath the shower
Is torn away the first.
Had the Star, that in days of old
Its soft light shed o'er me,
Ne'er sunk in the shades of death,
How changed my doom might be!
I never had learned to sigh
In solitary pain,
I might feel the bliss to love
And know I was loved again.
Its soft light shed o'er me,
Ne'er sunk in the shades of death,
How changed my doom might be!
I never had learned to sigh
In solitary pain,
I might feel the bliss to love
And know I was loved again.
Oh! not a single grace
Was o'er her features shed
That memory cannot trace,
And raise again from the dead.
Not a tone of that sweet young voice
But thrills to my heart, as clear
As when its accents blest
My unforgetful ear.
Was o'er her features shed
That memory cannot trace,
And raise again from the dead.
Not a tone of that sweet young voice
But thrills to my heart, as clear
As when its accents blest
My unforgetful ear.