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Time has not blanched a single hair
That clusters round thy forehead now; Nor hath the cankering touch of Care
Left even one furrow on thy brow. Thine eyes are blue as when we met,
In love's deep truth, in earlier years; Thy cheek of rose is blooming yet,
Though sometimes stained by secret tears ;But where, oh where's the spirit’s glow That shone through all-ten years ago ?
I, too, am changed—I scarce know why;
Can feel each flagging pulse decay, And youth, and health, and visions high,
Melt like a wreath of snow away! Time cannot sure have wrought the ill ;
Though worn in this world's sickening strife In soul and form,--I linger still
In the first summer month of life;
Yet journey on my path below,
But, look not thus,--I would not give
The wreck of hopes that thou must share, To bid those joyous hours revive,
When all around me seemed so fair. We've wandered on in sunny weather,
When winds were low and flowers in bloom,
And still will keep, 'mid storm and gloom ;
Has Fortune frowned ?-Her frowns were vain,
For hearts like ours she could not chill!
But ours grew fonder, firmer still!
Twin barks on this world's changing wave,
Stedfast in calms--in tempests tried,
Together cleave life's fitful tide ;
Have we not knelt beside his bed,
And watched our first-born blossom die? Hoped, till the shade of hope had fled,
Then wept till feeling's fount was dry ? Was it not soothing in that hour
To think, ʼmid mutual tears and sighs,
And burst to bloom in Paradise ?
Yes, it is sweet, when Heaven is bright,
To share its sunny beams with thee! But sweeter far, 'mid clouds and blight,
To have thee near to weep with me. Then dry those tears,—though something changed
From what we were in earlier youth, Time, that hath hopes and friends estranged,
Hath left us love in all its truth; Sweet feelings we would not forego, For life's best joysten years ago!
THE CLOSING SCENE.
Who can bring healing to her heart's despair,
Pale is his cheek with deep and passionate thought,