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HOURS OF REFLECTION.
Events upon events roll
In strange confusion round the soul:
There is no happiness or joy
Unfollowed by a deep alloy:
Where'er the laugh or smile may be,
There is a tear for misery.
And hours of gladness bring to view
Some rankling sorrow with them too;
And mind, beneath each care and woe,
Sinks gradually beneath the blow;
And each returning sorrow brings,
And leaves behind, its train of stings,
Until the soul, so worn in grief,
Finds death the only sure relief;
And with a faint, life-leaving sigh,
Man's soul is wafted up on high;
And angels bear again to God
A soul—the sunbeam of the sod.

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