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And answer'd by flush'd cheek, and downcast eye, And roselip parted, with half smile, half sigh. Young, loving, and beloved,—these are brief words, And yet they touch on all the finer chords, Whose music is our happiness: the tone May die away and be no longer known In the harsh wisdom brought by after years, Lost in that worldliness which scars and sears, And makes the misery of life's troubled scene;— Still it is much to think that it has been. They loved with such deep tenderness and truth,— Feelings forsaking us as does our youth,— They did not dream that love like theirs could die, And such belief half makes eternity. Yes, they were parting; still the fairy hope Had in their clear horizon ample scope