Where swell the songs thou shouldst have sung
By peaceful rivers yet to flow?
Where bloom the smiles thy ready tongue
Would call to lips that loved thee so?
On what far shore of being tossed,
Dost thou resume the genial stave,
And strike...
Rossiter Johnson
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if i could know
That here about the place where last you played,—
Within this room, and yonder in the shade
Of branches low,—
Your spirit lingered, I would never go,
But evermore a hermit pace the round
Of sunny paths across this garden...