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Then comes, with an awful roar,
Gathering and sounding on,
The storm-wind from Labrador,
The wind Euroclydon,

The storm-wind!

Howl! howl! and from the forest
Sweep the red leaves away!
Would the sins that thou abhorrest,

O Soul! could thus decay,
And be swept away!

For there shall come a mightier blast,
There shall be a darker day;

And the stars, from heaven down-cast,
Like red leaves be swept away!
Kyrie, eleison !
Christe, eleison !

L'ENVOI.

YE voices, that arose

After the evening's close,

And whispered to my restless heart repose!

Go, breathe it in the ear

Of all who doubt and fear,

And say to them, "Be of good cheer!"

Ye sounds, so low and calm,
That in the groves of balm

Seemed to me like an angel's psalm!

Go, mingle yet once more

With the perpetual roar

Of the pine-forest, dark and hoar !

Tongues of the dead, not lost,
But speaking from death's frost,
Like fiery tongues at Pentecost!

Glimmer, as funeral lamps,
Amid the chills and damps

Of the vast plain where Death encamps!

THE

SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE.

THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE.

DEDICATION.

As one who, walking in the twilight gloom,
Hears round about him voices as it darkens,
And seeing not the forms from which they come,
Pauses from time to time, and turns and hearkens;

So walking here in twilight, O my friends!
I hear your voices, softened by the distance,
And

pause, and turn to listen, as each sends His words of friendship, comfort, and assistance.

If any thought of mine, or sung or told,
Has ever given delight or consolation,
Ye have repaid me back a thousandfold,
By every friendly sign and salutation.

Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shewn! Thanks for each kindly word, each silent token, That teaches me, when seeming most alone,

Friends are around us, though no word be spoken.

Kind messages, that pass from land to land;

Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, In which we feel the pressure of a hand,

One touch of fire,—and all the rest is mystery!

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