There is a time -- a dreary time, |
When life's illusions fade away, |
Like music's faint receding chime, |
Or like the Sun's last parting ray. |
5 Ah! then how shrinks the lonely heart, |
When all its cherish'd flowers have died; |
And Hope, the latest to depart, |
Has e'en her farewell requiem sighed. |
What now remains out path to cheer, |
10 That path which leads but to the tomb? |
'Tis the blest thought, it brings us near |
The loved -- the lost -- to share their doom. |
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