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56
POEMS.
Through many a restless day,
And many a night of pain.
And many a night of pain.
But bear me gently forth
Beneath the open sky,
Where, on the pleasant earth,
Till night the sunbeams lie.
Beneath the open sky,
Where, on the pleasant earth,
Till night the sunbeams lie.
There, through the coming days,
I shall not look to thee
My weary side to raise,
And shift it tenderly.
I shall not look to thee
My weary side to raise,
And shift it tenderly.
There sweetly shall I sleep;
Nor wilt thou need to bring
And put to my hot lip
Cool water from the spring;
Nor wilt thou need to bring
And put to my hot lip
Cool water from the spring;
Nor wet the kerchief laid
Upon my burning brow;
Nor from my eyelids shade
The light that wounds them now;
Upon my burning brow;
Nor from my eyelids shade
The light that wounds them now;