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Page:Poems Emma M. Ballard Bell.djvu/86

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TO MY SISTER, ON HER EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY.
My sister, the autumns of eighteen bright yearsWith mournful, sweet glory have made the earth rife,Since angels descending from heavenly spheresTo thee oped the beautiful gateway of life.
O life! so mysterious, wondrous, sublime!O holiest gift from the Father of light!May we have the wisdom, while dwellers of time,To cherish thee sacredly, guard thee aright!
We know that each year as it circles awayIs bearing us on to eternity's shore;When death's waves shall dash o' er our forms their cold spray,We'll pass from earth's scenes, to return nevermore.
My sister, the sun of our earth life may set,To beam nevermore in the valley of time;But over our spirits more glorious yetShall heaven life dawn in eternity's clime.

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