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MY BIRTH-DAY.
83
That seem a rose-wreath on the brow of death,
Will pass away. My natal day, farewell!
Oh may'st thou, if thy light shall ever come
To me again on earth, behold the hopes,
That droop and fold within my lonely soul
Their broken pinions now, soar proudly
And revel, amid the glories of the sky.

Louisville Ky.