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THERE never yet was flower fair in vain, | Ah, weary bird ! thou wilt not fly again :
Thy wings are clipped, thou canst no more de. The seasons toil that it may blow again,
The silver phantom of the perfect sphere,
Held in its bosom : in one glory now
| Not the sweet moon of bridal only — we Be as thou wouldst be in thine own clear sight, One lustre, ever at the full, shall be : And so thou wilt in all the world's erelong :
One pure and rounded light, one planet whole, For worldlings cannot, struggle as they may,
One life developed, one completed soul ! From man's great soulone great thought hideaway.
thought hideaway. For I in thee, and thou in me,
Unite our cloven halves of destiny.
I THOUGHT our love at full, but I did err; God knew his chosen time.
And from my boughs withheld the promised fruit,
Thou art become my blood, my life, my light: Deep in my soul another bond to thee
God's mercy thou, and therefore shalt endure. Thrill with that life we saw depart from her;
BAYARD TAYLOR. O mother of our angel child ! twice dear ! Death knits as well as parts, and still, I wis, Her tender radince shall infold us here,
THE DAY RETURNS, MY BOSOM BURNS.
The blissful day we twa did meet;
Ne'er summer sun was half sae sweet.
And crosses o'er the sultry line, -
Than kingly robes, and crowns and globes,
Heaven gave me more ; it made thee mine. “It was our wedding-day
While day and night can bring delight, A month ago," dear heart, I hear you say.
Or nature aught of pleasure give, If months, or years, or ages since have passed,
While joys above my mind can move, I know not : I have ceased to question Time.
For thee and thee alone I live; I only know that once there pealed a chime
When that grim foe of life below Of joyous bells, and then I held you fast,
Comes in between to make us part, And all stood back, and none my right denied,
The iron hand that breaks our band, And forth we walked : the world was free and wide
It breaks my bliss, - it breaks my heart. Before us. Since that day I count my life: the Past is washed away.
THE POET'S BRIDAL-DAY SONG.
0, my love's like the steadfast sun,