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A dreamer dropped a random thought; 'twas old, and yet ’twas new;

A simple fancy of the brain, but strong in being true.

It shone upon a genial mind, and lo! its light beCanne

A lamp of life, a beacon ray, a monitory flame.

The thought was small; its issue great; a watchfire on the hill;

It sheds its radiance far adown, and cheers the valley still!

A nameless man, amid a crowd that thronged the daily mart,

Let fall a word of Hope and Love, unstudied, from the heart;

A whisper on the tumult thrown, a transitory breath,

It raised a brother from the dust; it saved a soul from death.

O germ! O fount! O word of love! O thought at random cast!

Ye were but little at the first, but mighty at the last.

THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES.

CHARLES LAMB.

I have had playmates, I have had companions,

In my days of childhood, in my joyful schooldays;

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have been laughing, I have been carousing,

Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies;

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I loved a Love once, fairest among WOIOleIlClosed are her doors on me, I must not see her— All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man:
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.

Ghost-like I paced round the haunts of my childhood,

Earth seem’d a desert I was bound to traverse,

Seeking to find the old familiar faces.

Friend of - my bosom, thou more than a brother, Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling? So might we talk of the old familiar faces,

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How some they have died, and some they have left me.

And some are taken from me; all are departed;

All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.

THE MAIDS OF ELFIN-MERE.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM.

When the spinning-room was here,
Came Three Damsels, clothed in white,
With their spindles every night;
One and two and three fair Maidens,
Spinning to a pulsing cadence,
Singing songs of Elfin-Mere,
Till the eleventh hour was toll’d,
Then departed through the wold.
Years ago, and years ago;
And the tall reeds sigh as the wind doth blow.

Three white Lilies, calm and clear,
And they were loved by every one;
Most of all the Pastor's Son,
Listening to their gentle singing,
Felt his heart go from him, clinging

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