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VERSES
There seems, where sheer descents begin,
A radiant mirage in the air.
For, -with its veil of rose and foam
A-quiver like transparent wings.
To the stem ramparts of its home
The wild hill cherry-blossom clings.
Own sister to the clouds of dawn.
Each magic tree o’erhangs the brink,
Its slender stems like lattice drawn.
Dark, on a fairyland of pink.
Three days agone no sign was ours.
No voice to cry the coming hope
That autumn’s wave would break in flowers
And roll in torrents down the slope ;
But as, when darkness rends apart,
A shaft of glory pierces through,
Joy’s hand has pierced the mountain’s heart
And all the barren world is new.
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