Poems by Samuel G. (Samuel Griswold) Goodrich
page 15 of 112 (13%)
page 15 of 112 (13%)
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One gentle spirit seeks the tomb,
His brow yet fresh with childhood's bloom: Another treads the paths of fame, And barters peace to win a name. Another still, tempts fortune's wave, And seeking wealth, secures a grave. The last, grasps yet the brittle thread: Though friends are gone and joy is dead-- Still dares the dark and fretful tide, And clutches at its power and pride-- Till suddenly the waters sever, And like the leaf, he sinks for ever! The Bubble Chase. [Illustration: The Bubble Chase] Twas morn, and, wending on its way, Beside my path a stream was playing; And down its banks, in humor gay, A thoughtless boy was idly straying. Light as the breeze they onward flew-- That joyous youth and laughing tide, And seemed each other's course to woo, For long they bounded side by side. |
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