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A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
THREE years she grew in sun ana słoxer
Myself will to my darling be
She shall be sportive as the fawn
And vital feelings of delight
Thus Nature spake-The work was done How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died and left to me
THE REVERIE OF POOR SUSAN.
Ar the corner of Wood Street, when daylight
appears, Hangs a Thrush that sings loud, it has sung for
three years: Poor Şusan has passed by the spot, and has
heard In the silence of morning the song of the Bird.
'Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her ?
She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; Bright volunies of vapour through Lothbury
And a river flows on through the vale of Cheap
Green pastures she views in the midst of the
dale, Down which she so often has tripped with her
And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove's, The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.
She looks, and her heart is in heaven : but they
fade, The mist and the river, the hill and the shade : The stream will not flow, and the hill will no:
rise, And the colours have all passed away from her eves !
RESOLUTION AND INDEPENDENCE
THERE was a roaring in the wind all night ;
broods; The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters; And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of
All things that love the sun are out of doors ;