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And it is triumph, sure, when fortune's sun Has shone upon us, and our task is done, To show our harvest to the eyes which were Once all the world to us! Perhaps there are Some who had presaged kindly of our youth. Feel we not proud their prophecy was sooth? But how felt ?—The very air Seemed as it brought reproach! there was no eye To look delighted, welcome none was there! She felt as feels an outcast wandering by Where every door is closed! She looked around;— She heard some voices' sweet familiar sound. There were some changed, and some remembered things:— There were girls, whom she left in their first springs,