Page:Poems Cook.djvu/394

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DEAD LEAVES.
But merry was my loud laugh, and joyously I stood
Ankle deep in dead leaves amid the misty wood;
Dancing with the spectre things—Autumn preach'd in vain,
For I knew that green leaves would soon come again.

Now I stand and see the boughs of Human Life get bare,
I hear the wail of Sorrow's breath through branches bright and fair;
And down come leaves of Joy and Love, all thickly strewn around,
And blossoms that were topmost borne are on the lowest ground.
But no laugh is on my lip, no light is on my brow;
I cannot smile as once I did,—I am not dancing now.
Heart deep in dead leaves, Spring will come in vain;
For the trees that now are bare, will ne'er be green again.


THE DREAMER.
"While we look, not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal."—St. Paul.

"Does Childhood love rich domes above,
Or painted walls around?
Will marble floors arouse the step
That falls with lightest bound?

"Ah, no! ah, no! it is not so;
The fair child goes
To tread on tiny daisies
Where the green blade grows.

"Can Manhood's heart so strangely part
With all that's fresh and true,
That Care leaves not a loop-hole spot
For Spirit to look through?

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