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echo.
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The sister's smile, the sister's eye,
Unchanged amid the lapse of years.

Brother! thy well-known form I see;
I gaze on thine unaltered brow.
Thou! who wast friend and guide to me,
Would I might share thy guidance now.
There is a gentler one, whose love
Might well have cheered life's trial way.
She comes with eye upraised above,
To point me to a brighter day.

But they are silent all;—they come
From the far regions of the blest.
Their souls have left the loved home dumb,
And lone and sad this aching breast.
And now has fled that sacred band.
Where now do these blest spirits stray?
Alone upon the earth I stand,
And echo answers, "Where are they"

Where are they? Does no gentler voice,
Save that of echo, cheer the heart?
No tone that bids the soul rejoice,
And sad and anxious thoughts depart?
Hark! hark! within the midnight gloom,
When solitude and grief are near,—
Hark! from beyond the silent tomb,
A voice is breathed upon the ear.

List to the swell of that pure tone.
"Though here thy weary footsteps roam,