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Rh A rose's brief bright life of joy, Such unto him was given; You call for him in vain, my boy— Thy brother is in heaven! Thy brother is, &c.

And has he left the birds and flowers, And must I call in vain; And through the long, long summer hours, Will he not come again? Oh I call, &c.

And by the brook, and in the glade, Are all our wanderings o'er? Oh! while my brother with me play'd, Would I had loved him more! Oh! call, &c.

 

, hear a trembling pris'ner's prayer, For liberty that sighs; And never let thine heart be shut Against the suffrer's cries; For here forlorn and sad I sit, Within this wiry grate, And tremble at th' approach of morn, Which brings impending fate.

If e'er thy breast with freedom glow'd, And spurn'd the oppressor's chain, Oh, do not then with tyrant force A free-born mouse detain; 