Synopses & Reviews
Excerpt from Creation of a Rose and Short Poems
The wind sighs softly round, Softly round. There is a dreary heartache with the sound; For it sighs above the tomb, Where, beneath the shadowy gloom, Thou, wast laid but far too soon, Dear one, gone.
The sun shines softly bright, Softly bright. There is a ray of comfort in the light For it brings me close to thee. Once again thy face I see Beauteous now, from pain set free Dear one, gone.
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