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That rose was a Spirit , which often before 
Had appeared to my visions in forms ever new, 
Like ‘a star’ it had brightened the darkness of 
yore, 
And like Hope, or like Gladness, its presence I 
knew. 
Like ‘ a dream ’ it had come in the silence of night, 
When my heart was care-laden, and sleepless 
mine eyes, 
And the charm it imparted had soon put to flight 
Every thought, but the glad ones that e’er with it 
rise; 
Oh, Dream of my Life! Brightest Rose of my 
heart! 
More cherished than all of earth’s blessings be¬ 
side, 
Unchanged be thy graces, may no care impart 
Its blight to thy beauty — its chill to thy pride ! 
