_Our dearest joys forever flow_ _From fountains of the Long Ago,_ _That from the heights of pleasures past_ _Flood all the present valleys vast,_ _And with eternal glees provide_ _The future's endless ocean tide._ _To ope each cage where a heartless age_ _Hath chained the birds of singing,_ _Till Love's own glee that is fond and free_ _Shall laugh where they are winging,--_ _Such is my wish. 'Tis true, hold I,_ _That songs, like birds, in bondage die._…
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