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MELANCHOLY.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


212

MELANCHOLY.

Where'er I laugh a buried echo sighs;
Some coffin full of ashes
Uplifts its dead; a sea-deep sorrow lies
Under a wave that flashes.
I know not why this moan steals into May,
To make its joy so hollow;
Some woful hearse keeps hushing through the day—
My thoughts, dark mourners, follow.