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Poems by the late John Bethune

With a sketch of the author's life, by his brother

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INVOCATION.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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 II. 
  
  
  
  
  

INVOCATION.

Come forth ye gentle flowerets,
Sweet harbingers of spring,
For the air, though calm, lacks cheerfulness,
Till you your odours bring.
The gentle gales are gone abroad,
On the mountain side to play;

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The sunbeams dance upon the plain:
Come forth and share the day.
The joyous lark hath mounted high,
On the rainbow's arch to sing,
And the humble bees, in search of you,
Are humming on the wing.
Come forth from your cold beds of dust,
And drink the crystal dews,
And to the charms of music add
The odours you diffuse.
Come forth, like emblems of the past,
And gently bring to view
The friends with whom we gather'd flowers
When life to us was new—
Who twined with us the daisy's wreath
With childhood's tiny hands—
Who now have wander'd from their homes
To far and foreign lands.
Oh! how they would rejoice to see,
And gather with a smile
The first sweet flowers which deck the soil
Of their own native isle.
Come forth, memorials of the dead,
And to our memories bring
Deep dreams of those who coldly sleep
Beyond the reach of Spring.

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Come forth and show the power of Him
Who wakes you with his breath—
Whose smile can renovate the dust,
And break the bands of death!