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  ― 164 ―

Farewell to the Koré.

AN AUTUMN SONG.

The withered leaves are falling fast,
Like tears for an only child;
And deep is the wail of the rising blast
That comes from the ocean wild.
The golden ears no longer wave
Like a rippling sunlit sea;
Thou art gone from us to the gloomy grave—
Farewell, Persephone!

Since first the corn rose fresh and green,
With its drops of crystal dew,
How many a hope the light hath seen,
That never shall rise anew!
The dazzling dreams that round us shone,
We never again may see;
There are hearts that now must dwell alone,—
Farewell, Persephone!

Demeter wears her robe of gloom,
For her Holy Onenote she grieves,
For the autumn brings thy yearly doom,
With the sickle and the sheaves:
And since the weary year was young,
How oft, for the loved, like thee,
Hath the widowed heart with grief been wrung—
Farewell, Persephone!

But when the crocuses shall bloom,
Thou then wilt again appear,
Wilt burst the bands of the darksome tomb,
And bask in the sunlight clear;
The loved we mourn are gone for aye,
On earth they have ceased to be;
On our sorrow's night ne'er dawneth day—
Farewell, Persephone!

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