Page:Records of Woman.pdf/201

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There was a burst of tears around the bard: All wept but one, and she serenely stood, With her clear brow and dark religious eye, Rais'd to the first faint star above the hills, And cloudless; though it might be that her cheek Was paler than before.—So Morna heard The minstrel's prophecy. And spring return'd, Bringing the earth her lovely things again, All, save the loveliest far! A voice, a smile, A young sweet spirit gone.