A Counsel

Oh weep for the glory departed
That comes not again;
And weep for the friends hollow-hearted
Ye cared for in vain;
And weep for the roses that perished
Ere Summer had fled;
For hopes that ye vainly have cherished;—
But not for the dead.
Nay mourn not for them: they have ended
All labours and woes;
Their hopes now of glory are blended
With perfect repose.
And tell me, this thing that is given,
Shall it not suffice?
They wait for the gladness of Heaven,
And have Paradise.
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