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Poem by Louisa Sarah Bevington Hope Preferred Q.-- SAY, what is kindlier than snow, Warming the unborn flowers; Or robin's little minor song In autumn's serest hours; Say, where a gentler, tenderer thing In this harsh world of ours? A.-- To make the best of chill To-day Earth snow of heaven doth borrow; The robin sings of Yesterday, (Sing yesterday, sigh sorrow!); But give me hope's own excellence Glad in her flawless Morrow. The gentle vanishing of snow Ere yet the clod be broken; The songless swallow's level flight,-- Sweet summer's herald token; The quiet greeting of true eyes Ere love's first word be spoken. Louisa Sarah Bevington Louisa Sarah Bevington's other poems: 1244 Views |
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