BLIND.

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AS one who in a cavern underground

Can hear the jars and murmurings which tell
That far away a busy people dwell,
Not hearing, only knowing by the sound,
So dwells he in a world by darkness bound;
He hears and feels, but no dawn can dispell
The night for him on whom no light e’er fell
With power to drive away the night profound.
But not for aye he walks the realm of night,
For one day there will break upon his eyes
A flood of rarer, dark o’ercoming light
Than ever flushed the arch of earthly skies,
And for him dawn a morning wondrous bright
Within the garden lands of Paradise.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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