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THECKLA, by                    
First Line: The clouds gather fast, the oak forests moan
Last Line: "are the pangs to his memory given."


THE clouds gather fast, the oak forests moan,
A maiden goes forth by the dark sea alone,
The wave on the shore breaks with might, with might,
And she mingles her sighs with gloomy night,
Whilst her eyes are all tearfully roving.
"My heart, it is dead, and the world's void and drear
And there's nothing to hope or to live for here.
Thou Holy One, call back thy child to her rest;
In the pleasure of earth I've already been blest, --
In the pleasure of living and loving!"

Vain, vain thy regrets, vain the tears that are shed
O'er the tomb; no complaints will awaken the dead;
Yet oh! if there's aught to the desolate heart,
For the lost light of love can a solace impart, --
It will not be denied thee by heaven.
"Let the soul then sigh on, its tears gently fall;
Though life, love, and rapture, they cannot recall,
Yet the sweetest of balms to the desolate breast,
For the lost love of Him, whom on earth it loved best, --
Are the pangs to his memory given."





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