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ed her choice; "My love will never come again!" But from the clouds came answering voice: "I come, my darling, with the rain!" The Violet had jealous fears, And told her sorrow to the Rose: "Say--is he faithful?" O those tears! The blossom whispered--"Goodness knows!" The recreant dewdrop came at last, And eased his love of all her pain: With kisses sweet her sorrows passed, And life anew came with the rain. ODE: ON THE DEATH OF A VERY INTIMATE FRIEND, A YOUNG SURGEON, WHO DIED FROM FEVER, AFTER ATTENDING A PATIENT. 'Tis sad indeed to chant a dirge of gloom-- To weave the cypress for a youthful brow: To moan a requiem o'er an early tomb, And sing in sorrow as I'm singing now. While men raise mausoleums to die brave-- With flimsy flatt'ries gilded tombs besmear-- We need no banner o'er our Brother's grave To tell what wealth of worth lies buried there. Gone! and the word re-echoes with a sound Mournful as muffled bells upon the wind; Sad in its influence on all around-- Telling of griefs that still remain behind. A thousand hearts may throb with tender swell-- Though every soul in deepest sorrow grieves, How much he was beloved they only tell; But who shall gauge the yawning breach he leaves? Dark is the social world in which he moved-- Lending his aid unmindful of the cost. Stilled is the heart the sternest 'mongst us loved; Dim is the lustrous jewel we have lost. For souls like his, so tender and so great, Are pearls that stud the earth like stars the sky: Above--the password at celestial gate; Below--the germ of immortality. Gone! Just as life was breaking, full of hope-- Clothed in the gorgeous beauty of its morn; Free in Ambition's ever-widening scope, A pictured prospect exquisitely drawn. As void of self as angels are of sin, What sweet anticipations stirred his brain: What heights for others would he strive to win; What little for himself he'd seek to gain. But while the world was bathed in golden light; While beauty breathed from every opening flower; While streamlets danced along with gay delight; While mellow music filled each songful bower; With heart-warm friends whose love ran brimming o'er For him who, full of life, stood with them then; In such an hour Death led him from the shore; And gone the worth we ne'er
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