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oh! there are hours.

Leaving an aching anguish there,
The tearless silence of despair.
And then man thinks, Oh! what is life and light?
A dreary, gloomy, never-ending night.

Oh! there are years that fleet so fast,
That each seems shorter than the last,
And man is taught each year to know
Eternity's not life below.
And man should bend with reasoning heart and soul,
To power supreme—a viewless, felt control.

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