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When they see the broad moon from the summit ascend, And their school-house and £?rove in a blaze.
O ! sweet to my soul is that beautiful grove,
Awakening remembrance most dear ; —When lonely in anguish and exile I rove.
Wherever its glories appear, It gladdens my spirit, it sootlis from afar
With tranquil and tender delight, It shines tlirough my heari, like a hope-beaming star
Alone in the desert of night.
It tells me of moments of innocent bliss,
For ever and ever gone o'er Like the light of a smile, like the balm of a kissi,
They were, — but they will be no more. Yet wherefore of pleasures departed complain,
That leave such endearment behind ? Though the sun of their sweetness be sunk in the main.
Their twilight still rests on the mind.
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