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ElORAt CEREMONIES. 
And never Grecian chisel formed 
Shapes of more perfect grace. 
Than by the moonlit Ganges bend 
Each o’er her mirrored face. 
Ah ! love takes many shapes; at first 
It comes as flashes fly 
That bear the lightning on their wings, 
And then in darkness die. 
But after comes a steadier light, 
A long and lasting dream; 
Like the full heaven which the sun 
Flings down on life’s dark stream. 
One lingers—for she dares not trust 
Her lamp upon the wave ; 
She knows the omen ere it come— 
Her heart is its own grave. 
There is a love that in the soul 
Burns silent and alone, 
Though all of earthly happiness. 
Has long, too long been flown. 
