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United all, we meet the morrow gaily,

And wander joyously from morn to morn;

And when our children shall our loss deplore,

Our love shall be their joy for evermore.

THE VIOLET.

A VIOLET on the lea did grow,

Unknown and humbly bent full low;

It was a lovely flower.

There came a maiden young and fair,

With heart and footsteps light as air,

Across, across the lea with merry song.

'Ah !' thought the violet, 'could I be

The fairest blossom on the lea,

Ah, but for one short hour!

My love might pluck me with a smile,

And press me to her heart the while,

Though but, though but, a few swift moments long.'

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Through her, through her, and at her feet I lie !'

THE LOVED ONE NEAR.

I THINK of thee when sunshine bright is streaming

On ocean deeps;

I think of thee when moonlight, softly beaming,

On fountains sleeps.

I see thee, when on mountain path of danger

The dust doth play;

In darksome night when trembling goes the stranger His narrow way.

I hear thee when, with muffled roaring, yonder

The torrents swell;

And list'ning, oft when all is still, I wander

In quiet dell.

I am with thee; though thou afar art roaming,

To me thou'rt near;

The sun has set, the stars shine through the gloaming;

Oh wert thou here!

THE MINSTREL.

'UPON the bridge, without the door,

What sounds fall on mine ear?

Go, let the song be sung once more

Within my palace here.'

The monarch spoke, the page he sped,

The boy returned, the monarch said:

'Bring in the aged ministrel.'

'God greet ye well, ye noble knights,

God greet ye well, fair dames;

What heaven, rich with starry lights!

Who telleth me their names?

This hall of splendour and of power

Be closed, mine eyes, 'tis not the hour

To gaze in wond'ring pleasure.'

He closed his eyes, the minstrel old,

And woke a stirring air,

Up looked the knights right brave and bold,

And down each lady fair.

The king, well pleased with what he sang,

Bade one around his neck to hang

A chain of gold as guerdon.

'Give not to me the golden chain !

The gift thy knights may take,

Before whose ranks on battle plain

The hostile lances break.

Give it thy Chancellor of State,

That he may bear the golden weight

Besides his other burdens.

'I sing, as sings the bird whose home

Is in the air so free;

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