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THE AUTHOR TO HIS READERS.
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298

THE AUTHOR TO HIS READERS.

Kind friends, I'm always happy when you're so;
It is my study, wheresoe'er I go,
To gladden, if I can, by act or thought,
The circle in whose limit I am brought.
I love a smile much better than a sigh;
I love to see a bright, mirth-beaming eye,
That speaks a heart where naught of gloom or care
Can present peace and cheerfulness impair;
I love to hear the music of a laugh
Better than dismal moanings, more than half;
And can I but one joyful thrill awake,
Feel that one smile has kindled for my sake,
Have kind eyes beam upon me in their mirth,—
A bright endorsement of my efforts' worth,—
Have warm hearts welcome me with kindly glow,
Without hypocrisy the veil below,
Have woman clasp my hand in warm embrace,
And childhood gladden as it sees my face,
The aged wiled a moment from their pain,
Smiling in dreams that they are young again;
Could I—but, ah! the fond delusions fly!
These may be left to worthier than I.
But should one smile a moment radiant flit
O'er the dull pages I have herein writ,
A pride I'd feel, to future care a bane,
And bless the thought that I'd not tried in vain.