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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

THRENODIA.

GONE, gone from us! and shall we see Those sibyl-leaves of destiny, Those calm eyes, nevermore ? Those deep, dark eyes so warm and bright, Wherein the fortunes of the man Lay slumbering in prophetic light, In characters a child might scan ? So bright, and gone forth utterly! O stern wordNevermore!

The stars of those two gentle eyes Will shine no more on earth ; Quenched are the hopes that had their birth, As we watched them slowly rise, Stars of a mother's fate And she would read them o'er and o'er, Pondering as she sate, Over their dear astrology, Which she had conned and conned before, Deeming she needs must read aright What was writ so passing bright. And yet, alas ! she knew not why, Her voice would falter in its song,

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