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Father in Heaven! my day-spring's hour Poured its vain incense on another shrine.

Therefore my childhood's once-loved scene Around me faded lies; Therefore, remembering what hath been, I ask, is this mine early paradise?

It is, it is,—but Thou art gone, Or if the trembling shade Breathe yet of thee, with altered tone Thy solemn whisper shakes a heart dismayed.