Question And Answer
'CAN the soul die, believe you?
Because it seems to me
My soul is dead and buried,
So still it seems to be.
'It quivers not with joy;
It moaneth not with pain;
There is no note in nature
Awakens it again.
'Those white clouds in the azure;
Those lanes; those breezy trees;
Those softly gliding swallows;
Those fluted melodies;
'Those shadows in the meadows,
Running a fitful race;
With pleasure once they thrilled me,
But coldly now I gaze.'
Fear not; oh! not so lightly
The soul of mortal dies;
It has but wept itself to sleep,
And all unconscious lies.
The surging feelings overwrought,
They have but ebbed away,
And left the soul a little while
With all their changeful spray.
But stronger, deeper, fuller, in
The billowy tide will roll,
And overflood, with life and love,
The ever living soul.
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