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323

THE GENTLE GHOST OF JOY.

A little while ago you knew not I was I—
A little while ago I knew not you were you—
Now the swift hours have run by,
And all the world is new.
I hear the young birds sing
In the rosy light of morn;
Like them I could take wing,
And sing as newly born.
A little while from now I shall be far away—
A little while from now your face I shall not see—
But within my heart a ray
To light the dark will be.
Do you not know that pain
So sad, so sweet, so coy,
That comes, and comes again,
The gentle ghost of Joy?
Ah, that shall dwell with me,
When your face I do not see!