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XXXII. THE BEATIFIC VISION OF THE EARTH.—1.
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149

XXXII. THE BEATIFIC VISION OF THE EARTH.—1.

Glad childhood's dream of marvels past, we rise,
Still on our cheeks the flush of sleep remaining;
And roam the waste of Earth, our eyelids straining
The glories of that dream to realise.
Nor seek in vain. Stream, bird, or cloud replies,
Echoes that mock young passion's amorous feigning,
Fancy shines starlike forth 'mid daylight waning,
And Hope the night-bird sings 'neath shrouded skies.
At last the charm is broken: day by day
Drops some new veil, until the countenance bare
Of that ice-idol, blank Reality,
Confronts us full with cold, and loveless eye—
Then dies our heart, unless that faith we share
Whose touch makes all things gold, and gives us youth for aye.