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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A. L., by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Child! Like a broken reed all hope we find
Last Line: Washes some spot defiled.


CHILD! like a broken reed all hope we find;
Fate in her hand controls our destiny:
This does she on the awful spindle wind;
The thread breaks, and our joys in ruin lie,
Alas! all cradles have
The germs that form a grave.

The Future, O my dove!--a stainless ray--
Seemed to my dazzled sight a shining star;
Sunshine, calm wave where might the halcyon play,
A sparkling flower expanding from afar.
Alas! that vision bright
Has vanished from my sight.

If near you some one weeps in pensive mood,
Let him weep on, nor seek the cause to know;
To weep is sweet, to weep is often good
For man, alas! in this rough world below.
Each single tear, my child,
Washes some spot defiled.





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