JOY.

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My heart was like a flower once,
That from its jewel-tinted cup
The generous fragrance of its joy
To all the world sent floating up.
But now ’tis like a humming-bird,
That in the cup his bright wing dips,
And with most dainty selfishness
Himself the choicest honey sips,
With eager, thirsty, longing lips!
And once my heart was like a gem,
Set in a fair betrothal ring;
Content to light the happy darks
That shield love’s shy self-wondering.
But now I think my heart is like
The lady fair who wears the ring;
Pressed closely to her lips at night
With love’s mysterious wondering
That hers should be the precious thing!
And once my heart was like a nest,
Where singing-birds have made their home;
Set where the apple-boughs in bloom
Fleck the blue air with flower-foam.
But now it is itself a bird;
And if it does not always sing,
The Heavenly Father knows what thoughts,—
Too strangely sweet for uttering,—
Stir faintly underneath its wing!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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