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Each form may wear to the passing gaze
But oh, the changes we have seen
In the far and winding way;
The graves that have in our path grown green, And the locks that have grown gray!
The winters still on our own may spare
The sable or the gold:
But we saw their snows upon brighter hair-
We have gained the world's cold wisdom now,
But where are the living founts whose flow
Was a joy of heart to hear?
We have won the wealth of many a clime,
And the lore of many a page:
But where is the hope that saw in time
Will it come again when the violet wakes,
We have stood in the light of sunny brakes
And our souls might joy in the spring-time then,
For it never could give us the youth again
Of hearts that are growing old.
WATCHING FOR DAWN.
Watching for Dawn.
S yestermorn my years have flown away; But for lost youth there come no new to-morrows: No lure compels the drowsy joys to stay—
No curtain quite shuts out the bat-winged sorrows.
O my sweet youth! Left I one fruit untasted,
All that was sweetest grows most bitter now.
Then plucked I bitter sweets, yet plucked again:
Self-love is mad-grows madder with indulgence:
In this dark night of mortal wretchedness
What stars are fixed? I see but comets gleaming; Without, are sounds of strife and dull distress-Within, I watch a candle's fitful beaming.
Yet stars there are, like fires afar off burning—
What can I do but watch, and weep, and pray?
Look! in the east appear some gleams of morn-
A still, small voice gives answer to my prayer.
"Put out the candle, for the sun has risen!
The Return of Youth.
Y friend, thou sorrowest for thy golden prime, For thy fair youthful years, too swift of flight; Thou musest with wet eyes upon the time
Of cheerful hopes that filled the world with light,— Years when thy heart was bold, thy hand was strong,
And quick the thought that moved thy tongue to speak; And willing faith was thine, and scorn of wrong Summoned the sudden crimson to thy cheek.
Thou lookest forward on the coming days,
Shuddering to feel their shadow o'er thee creep:
Slopes downward to the place of common sleep;
Yet grieve thou not, nor think thy youth is gone,
Till the slow stars bring back her dawning hour;
Her own sweet time to waken bud and flower.
LABOR AND REST.
There shall he welcome thee, when thou shalt stand
Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet.
Life's early glory to thine eyes again;
Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here,
Of mountains where immortal morn prevails?
So pray we oftentimes, mourning our lot,—
Two hands to work addressed
Aye for his praise;
Two feet that never rest,
Two eyes that look above,
Two lips that breathe but love,
So pray we afterward low on our knees;—
DINAH MARIA MULOCK.
Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ?"
LOVE (and have some cause to love) the earth;
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with thee?
I love the air; her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
But what's the air, or all the sweets that she
I love the sea; she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor: she provides me store; She walls me round; she makes my diet greater; She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore;
But, Lord of oceans, when compared with thee,