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Loose Papers

To a Rill Noon May 23 1848

Sweet streamlett, would that I
In this green dell might live & die
I'd listen to thy cherub song
And smile to see thee glide along
I would not think of grief or care
Sorrow should never reach me there
I'd live like thee - sweet stream
And dying, forget that life had been a dream.
The Violet should be an emblem meet
Of my life so pure and sweet
I'd be as free from vice or sin
All without and all within
But Life is an angry tide
There sorrow and sin together glide
There Hope must die, and in his death
Yield to Despair his latest breath.
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Acrostic Cynthia L. [Weeks] June 3rd 1848
Cynthia canst thou e'er forget
Youths bright dream of gladness
Nor the time when first we met
To part, alas, in sadness
Hold me sacred those pleasant days
In sweetests study spent
And the hour we met for prayer & praise
Let Memory ne'er forget
Where we walked at dewy morn,
Ere the stars had left the sky -
Ere the glorious sun was nigh -
Keep in mind those sweetest hours
Sweet this memory, as the breath of flowers.

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