THE LAST SONG.

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"Earth is fair, oh so fair,"—
Sang a little, happy bird;
Though a prey to grief and care,
With a smile I heard.
Sing again that blithesome strain,
Precious little bird, I said;
For the heart that throbbed with pain
Thou hast comforted!

"Earth is fair, oh so fair,"
Louder sang the happy bird;
"What have I to do with care,
Or with hope deferred?"
All the western sky was red
With the beams of setting sun,
As the sportsman homeward sped
With the fatal gun.

"Earth is fair, oh so fair,
And I love the green earth well,"—
Death was in the balmy air,
And the warbler fell!
Earth is fair—but earth no more
Wears its pleasant green for thee,—
Cold and stiff and bathed in gore
Underneath the tree.

Earth is fair, but alas!
It hath many scenes of woe;
Happy they who through them pass,
Sweetly singing as they go,—
Comforting some lonely heart,
Making some weak spirit strong;—
So may I, and then depart,
On my lips a song!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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