Death
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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;
- Wind and rain and fervent heat, caressing,
- Lavished glory on that second May!
- High it rose--no winged grief could sweep it;
- Sin was scared to distance with its shine;
- Love, and its own life, had power to keep it
- From all wrong--from every blight but thine!
- Cruel Death! The young leaves droop and languish;
- Evening's gentle air may still restore--
- No! the morning sunshine mocks my anguish-
- Time, for me, must never blossom more!
- Strike it down, that other boughs may flourish
- Where that perished sapling used to be;
- Thus, at least, its mouldering corpse will nourish
- That from which it sprung--Eternity.
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