Comfort, Child!

Oh ! how heavy lie the snows
Where my love went late to rest;
High and chill the burden grows,
She must feel it on her breast.

Near she seemed and I breathed free,
When but living, flowered green
Separated her and me:
What a barrier now between!

" Comfort, child! I can come down
With my brooding love to-night;
Earth and air so pure have grown
I can spread my wings of white! "
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