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HOME.
How brightly glistening in the sun The woodland ivy plays
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yonder beeches from their barks Reflect his silver rays.
That sun surveys a lovely scene From softly smiling skies; And wildly
through unnumbered trees The wind of winter sighs:
Now loudit thunders o'er my headAnd now in distance dies. But
give me back my barren hills Where colder breezes rise;
Where scarce the scatteredstunted trees Can yield an answering swell
But where a wilderness of heath Returns the sound as well.
For yonder gardenfair and wideWith groves of evergreenLong
winding walksand borders trimAnd velvet lawns between;
Restore to me that little spotWith gray walls compassed round
Where knotted grass neglected liesAnd weeds usurp the ground.
Though all around this mansion high Invites the foot to roamAnd
though its halls are fair within-- Ohgive me back my HOME
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VANITAS VANITATUMOMNIA VANITAS.
In all we doand hearand seeIs restless Toil and Vanity. While yet
the rolling earth abidesMen come and go like ocean tides;
And ere one generation diesAnother in its place shall rise; THAT
sinking soon into the graveOthers succeedlike wave on wave;
And as they risethey pass away. The sun arises every dayAnd
hastening onward to the WestHe nightly sinksbut not to restyilai:
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Moon-Face and Other Storieseyj