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Then, and then only, will the cherished dream, 
Pursued for years, be lost with feeling’s gleam; 
Then will thy China Aster cease to prove 
Of ‘woman’s heart’ the type of trust and love! 
Alas! there are not many lights that shed 
Their brightening beams upon our sojourn here! 
Yet some have lived to see the lustre fled, 
From those which promised to burn long and clear, 
But fainter, and more faint became, till all, 
E’en hope seemed lost beneath affliction’s pall. 
Then may they not, worn bosoms such as these, 
Find sad memorials in ten thousand things, 
To symbol forth their history ? Leafless trees! 
Ye answer to my call. The bleak wind flings, 
In Autumn’s eve, a spell upon the heart, 
From whose dark sympathy ’twere grief to part; 
For Memory’s lights rekindled ’neath its power, 
Illume and soothe full many a future hour. 
