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MY BIRTH-DAY.
The friends and guardians of my childhood, fade
And wither like the leaves when Autumn sets
His many tinted signet on the woods.
Yet I, whose life in this drear month began,
Still linger darkly, sadly here to weep
For vanished stars and lovely blighted flowers
That shed upon my life, in brighter years,
Their lustre and their perfume. But with hopes
All crushed, and eyes bathed in the heart's best dew,
I lift my gaze above the earth, and read
Upon the far sky's blue and starry scroll,
A beautiful and holy promise. God
Watches and shields the lonely orphan here;
Ay, He who kindly tempers the cold wind
To the shorn lamb, will temper life's fierce storms
To her who calls upon His sacred name
In deep and fervent prayer.

               My natal day!
'Tis slowly melting in the twilight now,
And soon its tints along the western sky