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21

THE LOVED AND LOST.


The shadows of death o'er my path have been sweeping,
There are those who have loved me, debarred from the day;
The green turf is bright where in peace they are sleeping,
And on wings of remembrance ray soul is away.
'Tis shut to the glow of this present existence,
It hears from the past a funereal strain,
And eagerly turns to the high-seeming distance,
Where the turns blooms of earth will be garnered again."
Willis G. Clark.


Come to my heart again, ye long departed,
Come, fill the vacant places at our hearth;
Vainly for you the bitter tears have started,
Since ye forsook for heaven the haunts of earth.
Vainly, ye lost, we yearn for your caressing,
And ask the tender tones which once we heard;
On the still air there comes no whispered blessing,
Mute is each lip, and lost each loving word.