Minor Poems, including Napoleon | ||
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THE CONCLUSION.
I
'Tis past the midnight hour, and yetI linger o'er this page awhile,
As if I half indulg'd regret,
For what might rather prompt a smile;
II
A mournful smile, at hopes that shedTheir lustre, when my task began;
Which, like the hours between, are fled,
As now my closing leaf I scan.
III
It was a lovely Summer's mornThat first inspir'd my opening page;
Of thoughts and feelings brightly born
Hope was the nat'ral heritage.
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IV
Stern Winter's winds are sweeping byAs now I linger o'er my last;
And Hope, like yonder starless sky,
By clouds is darkly overcast.
V
But thou, in hope and gloom the same,Dear silent shade! art with me yet:
Filial affection owns thy claim,
And fondly chides each vain regret.
VI
For had these pages never lentAnother source of joy to me,
I owe them many hours, thus spent
In quient solitude with thee.
VII
Nor could this volume hope an endMy heart more gratefully would own,
Than feeling thus thy image blend
With her's, who could thy loss atone.
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VIII
With her's, who so perform'd the partWhich Heaven but gave thee — to resign,
That childhood's unsuspecting heart
Knew not an earlier claim was thine.
Minor Poems, including Napoleon | ||