"it Cometh Not, He Said,"

The nrlos comí' blok to Hip miffercr'9 lace, Arul toy to the mourner's soul: Aiul tho stars come buck to tlieir niichtly place Froni the r WOftderllura round tile pole. The rinda oome liaek trom tho storm-iossed sea, And the tlowers como back in the sprine. And the rivcr comes back at ev oer the lea, A uil i he híids como back to sinjj. Muy flowen come hnek, and the violet. And hlossonis that blooin on the troe; lint thal oíd illver dollar I lost ou a bct Will neer come back lo me: