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Laurella and other poems

by John Todhunter

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III. MINORE.
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263

III. MINORE.

Now the gale is in the trees
And stirs amid their boughs wild gusty melodies,
Rising in passion by abrupt degrees—
Dying, as of despair, in ghostly cadences;
In cadences of sorrowing tenderness,
(Like sighs from tearless hearts—to break at last)
Seeming to mourn dead love with fond distress;
Low requiems for the past,
Suggesting thoughts, too sweet to be denied,
And inward longings—never satisfied—
Deep-cherished dreams divine, by friendship undescried;
Opening to memory
Still palaces, in whose dim-vista'd halls,
Phantoms of childhood's joys float lingeringly,
And childhood's laughter faintly echoing falls
Softly, how softly, on the dreamer's ears,
Till the full heart expands ineffably,
Thrilled with strange hopes and vague foreboding fears,
In a solemn ecstasy.