
Thanatopsis by William Cullen Bryant
TO HIM who in the love of Nature holds |
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Communion with her visible forms, she speaks |
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A various language; for his gayer hours |
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She has a voice of gladness, and a smile |
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And eloquence of beauty, and she glides |
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Into his darker musings, with a mild |
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And healing sympathy, that steals away |
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Their sharpness, ere he is aware |
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