Madison Julius Cawein (Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн)
Joy
What were this life without her? Joy, whose young face is sweet With dreams that flit about her, And rapture wild of feet! With hope, that knows no languor, And love, that knows no sighs, And mirth, like some rich anger, High-sparkling in her eyes. Come! bid adieu to Sorrow; And arm in arm with Joy, We 'll journey towards Tomorrow, And let no Care decoy Our souls from all clean Pleasures, That take from Time's lean hand The hour-glass he treasures, And change to gold its sand.
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