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WHAT I LOST
Or a tiny flask of crystal
Meet the rose's breath to bear
Or a bird of wondrous plumage,
With a voice of sweetest tone,
That, escaping from my bosom,
To the greenwood deep has flown.
Ah! not these, I answer vainly;
Children, ye who passed that way,
Ye can never find the treasure
That I lost that summer day!

You may call it bird or blossom;
Name my treasure what you will;
Here no more its song or fragrance
Shall my soul with rapture fill.
But, thank God! our earthly losses
In no darksome void are cast;
Safely garnered, some to-morrow
Shall restore them all at last.
Somewhere in the great hereafter,
Children, ye who pass this way,
I shall find again the treasure
That I lost one summer day!