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"And still as day by
day we saw depart,
I was the living idol of his heart:
How to make joy a portion of the air
That breathed around me, seemed his only care.
For me the harp was strung, the page was turned;
For me the morning rose, the sunset burned;
For me the Spring put on her verdant suit;
For me the Summer flower, the Autumn fruit;
The very world seemed mine, so mighty strove
For my contentment, that enduring love.
"I see him still, dear mother! Still I hear
That voice so deeply soft, so strangely clear;
Still in the air wild wandering echoes float,
And bring my dream's sweet music note for note!
Oh! shall those sounds no more my fancy bless,
Which fill my heart, and on my memory press?
Shall I no more those sunset clouds behold,
Floating like bright transparent thrones of gold?
The skies, the seas, the hills of glorious blue;
The glades and groves, with glories shining through;
The bands of red and purple, richly seen
Athwart the sky of pale, faint, gem-like green;
When the breeze slept, the earth lay hushed and still,
When the low sun sank slanting from the hill,
And slow and amber-tinged the moon uprose,
To watch his farewell hour in glory close?
Is all that radiance past - gone by for ever -
And must there in its stead for ever be
The grey, sad sky, the cold and clouded river,
And dismal dwellings by the wintry sea?
E'er half a summer, altering day by day,
In fickle brightness, here, hath passed away!
And was that form (whose love might still sustain)
Nought but a vapour of the dreaming brain? -
Would I had slept for ever!"
Sad she sighed;
To whom the mournful mother thus replied: -
"Upbraid not Heaven, whose wisdom thus would rule
A world whose changes are the soul's best school:
All dream like thee, and 'tis for Mercy's sake
That those who dream the wildest, soonest wake;
All deem Perfection's system would be found
In giving earthly sense no stint or bound;
All look for happiness beneath the sun,
And each expects what God hath given to none.
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