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THE IDEAL.

Gladly to the poet given,

Which the poet's mind has sought;

"And the river is his music,

Wafted upward to the heaven,

Mingling with the sea of thought."

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I listened till the song had died away

To silence; then I felt the gloom had past,

For through the forest shone the joyful day,

And to my soul content had come at last.

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