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And what have ye found in the monarch's dome,
Oh! joyous birds, it hath still been so ;
"A change we have found there--and many a change!
Faces and footsteps and all things strange!
Gone are the heads of the silvery hair,
And the young that were, have a brow of care,
And the place is hush'd where the children play'd,-Nought looks the same, save the nest we made!"
Sad is your tale of the beautiful earth,
Birds that o'ersweep it in power and mirth!
THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.
THEY grew in beauty, side by side,
They fill'd one home with glee ;— Their graves are sever'd, far and wide, By mount, and stream, and sea.
The same fond mother bent at night
O'er each fair sleeping brow;
One, midst the forests of the west,
The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one,
One sleeps where southern vines are drest
Above the noble slain :
He wrapt his colours round his breast,
And one--o'er her the myrtle showers
And parted thus they rest, who play'd
Beneath the same green tree; Whose voices mingled as they pray'd Around one parent knee!