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(362) Page 344 - Midnight wind
344
THE MIDNIGHT WIND.
I've listen'cl to the midnight wind,
Which seem'd, to fancy's ear,
The mournful music of the mind.
The echo of a tear ;
And still, methought, the hollow sound
Wliich, melting, swex^t along,
The voice of other days had found.
With all the powers of song.
I've listeu'd to the midnight wind.
And thought of friends untrue —
Of hearts that seem'd so fondly twined.
That nought could e'er undo ;
Of cherish'd hopes, once fondly bright —
Of joys which fancy gave —
Of youthful eyes, whose lovely light
Were darken'd in the grave.
I've listen'd to the midnight wind
When all was still as death ;
When nought was heard before, behind—
Not e'en the sleeper's breath.
And I have sat at such an hour
And heard the sick man's sigh ;
Or seen the babe, like some sweet flow'r,
At that lone moment die.

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