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Mighty it roll'd on the winds afar,
Shaking the streets like a conqueror's car ;
away from life's pageants, turn, If its deep story thy heart would learn ! Ever too bright is that outward show, Dazzling the eyes till they see not wo. But lift the proud mantle which hides from thy view The things thou shouldst gaze on, the sad and true ; Nor fear to survey what its folds concealSo must thy spirit be taught to feel !
THE SPELLS OF HOME.
There blend the ties that strengthen
Our hearts in hours of grief, 'The silver links that lengthen Joy's visits when most brief.
By the soft green light in the woody glade,
By the sleepy ripple of the stream,
By the gathering round the winter hearth,
By the fairy tale or the legend old
And bless that gift!-it hath gentle might,
It hath led the freeman forth to stand
In the mountain-battles of his land;
It' hath brought the wanderer o'er the seas
Yes! when thy heart in its pride would stray