Лирика - страница 12

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Death! that struck when I was most confiding

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Death! that struck when I was most confiding

In my certain faith of joy to be -

Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing

From the fresh root of Eternity!


Leaves, upon Time's branch, were growing brightly,

Full of sap, and full of silver dew;

Birds beneath its shelter gathered nightly;

Daily round its flowers the wild bees flew.


Sorrow passed, and plucked the golden blossom;

Guilt stripped off the foliage in its pride;

But, within its parent's kindly bosom,

Flowed for ever Life's restoring-tide.


Little mourned I for the parted gladness,

For the vacant nest and silent song -

Hope was there, and laughed me out of sadness;

Whispering, ' Winter will not linger long!'


And, behold! with tenfold increase blessing,

Spring adorned the beauty-burdened spray;