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32
5 x\ch ni 'n tal-i3mh dusg-isdli suas ;
Till-idh ri^h ist dreach mem flùr,
'S èi'r-idh nnà-diir as vn iiaigh,
Vicò le h»aih-v. ghlòr mhoi'r, iiiv.
G 'S do 111! imaoiml), v,n dèidh iBin fo/s,
2'hig àm-dùsg-aidh aoibh-n?«ch, mor,
'S gheabh ar feòtl vn dòcli-«s clos,
<tu nu'g ean'-T!ch buan nr. (lion-'.
1 Wintei- reigncth o'er tile lanil,
Freez-iri}; with its icy l)reatli ;
Dead and liare the tall trees stand ;
All is chill and drear m death.
2 Yet it seenieth but a day
Since the summer Howers were here,
Since they stacked the balmy hay,
Since they reaped the jjolden eiir.
3 Sunny days are past and gone :
So t he years go, speeding fast,
Onward ever, each new one
Swifter speeding than the last.
4 Life is waning ; life is biief ;
Death, like winter, standeth nigh :
Each one, like the falling leaf,
Soon shall fade, and fall, and die.
5 But th'^ sleeping earth shall wake.
New-born flowers shall burst in
bloom.
And all nature, rising, lu-eak.
Glorious from its wintry tomb.
6 So the saints from slumber blest.
Rising, shall awake and sing ;
And our flesh in hope shall rest
Till there bi-eaks the endless spring.

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