Evening Solace
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- The human heart has hidden treasures,
- In secret kept, in silence sealed;--
- The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
- Whose charms were broken if revealed.
- And days may pass in gay confusion,
- And nights in rosy riot fly,
- While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion,
- The memory of the Past may die.
- But there are hours of lonely musing,
- Such as in evening silence come,
- When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
- The heart's best feelings gather home.
- Then in our souls there seems to languish
- A tender grief that is not woe;
- And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish
- Now cause but some mild tears to flow.
- And feelings, once as strong as passions,
- Float softly back--a faded dream;
- Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
- The tale of others' sufferings seem.
- Oh! when the heart is freshly bleeding,
- How longs it for that time to be,
- When, through the mist of years receding,
- Its woes but live in reverie!
- And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,
- On evening shade and loneliness;
- And, while the sky grows dim and dimmer,
- Feel no untold and strange distress--
- Only a deeper impulse given
- By lonely hour and darkened room,
- To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven
- Seeking a life and world to come.
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