Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/282

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And earth, and earth's debasing stain, Again is on my soul; And I am but a nameless part Of a most worthless whole.

Why write I this? because my heart Towards the future springs, That future where it loves to soar On more than eagle wings.

The present, it is but a speck In that eternal time, In which my lost hopes find a home, My spirit knows its clime.