Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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Untitled Article
Coy flatterers , were your thoughts as mine , Ye would not thus in discord pine ; But , while these fading glories shine With sunset rayi Wake one Autumnal song divine Ere all decay .
Look on yon once familiar wood—How beautiful its widowhood ! While it was green , ye fondly sued The sheltering bough—Seems it not like ingratitude To leave it now ?
Vermilion , orange , brown and green , With nameless , countless hues between , Paint it like some poetic scene Of elfin-land ; And , when ye think what there has been ,
Can ye withstand ? Ye could not , if that power were yours—But nought to you the Past restores : Back on your hearts no echo pours The music gone 5 No memory from its embers soars ,
Of transport flown . To us a different lot is given : Ten thousand chains , unseen , unriven , Bind us to all beneath the heaven , Of every length ; And idly might the strong have striven
'Gainst their fine strength . These adamantine gossamers , — Which Life , like Lilliput , confers On all her slumbering Gullivers , From first to last , — How close to her , and all that ' s hers , They bind us fast !
Our summer shades may fall—but not Effaced is each familiar spot , Each spiritual Egerian grot Of the dear Past : Oh no , unfaded , unforgot , They live , they last !