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Poem by Richard Henry Stoddard


It Never Comes Again


There are gains for all our losses,
There are balms for all our pain,
But when youth, the dream, departs,
It takes something from our hearts,
And it never comes again.

We are stronger, and are better,
Under manhood's sterner reign;
Still we feel that something sweet
Followed youth, with flying feet,
And will never come again.

Something beautiful is vanished,
And we sigh for it in vain;
We behold it everywhere,
On the earth, and in the air,
But it never comes again.



Richard Henry Stoddard


Richard Henry Stoddard's other poems:
  1. The Witch’s Whelp
  2. The Sledge at the Gate
  3. Uncertain Sounds
  4. Twilight on Sumter
  5. Lincoln's Birthday


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