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63

She knows no happiness beyond
    The flowery fields and sunny skies, ⠀⠀
Where blessed and blessing she rejoices,
And joins to her's those cherub voices;
Arising when the crimson flush
    Is fading into twilight dim,
Or with the morning's earliest blush,
    In that soul-thrilling choral hymn,
Whose sweet and simple strain imparts
The gratitude of guileless hearts.

Dearest! I've lingered in my song,
And fain would still the lay prolong,
In fond yet idle pleasure dwelling
    On bliss which cheats the listening ear,
With soothing softness only telling
    What gentle spirits love to hear.
Yet I must hasten with the tale;
    For when we reach yon woody cliff,