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The end lies ever in my thought;
To a grave so cold and deep
But now the dream is wholly oer.
I bathe mine eyes and see;
And wonder through the world once more, A youth so light and free.
Two locks, and they are wondrous fair,—
Left me that vision mild;
The brown is from the mother's hair,
The blond is from the child.
And when I see that lock of gold,
And when the dark lock I behold.
I wish that I were dead.
IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY.
No hay pajaros en los nidos de antaño
THE sun is bright,-the air is clear; The darting swallows soar and sing,
And from the stately elms I hear
The blue-bird prophesying Spring.
So blue yon winding river flows,
All things are new;-the buds, the leaves, That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, And even the nest beneath the eaves;There are no birds in last year's nest!
All things rejoice in youth and love,
Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme,
Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth,
There are no birds in last year's nest!
THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
. It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
And the days are dark and dreary