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Show OS!! HENRY HOW LAND DadAhus I lost a day, a splendid, precious day, And I may never, never win it back; 'Twaa not a day in blossom-scented May, I lost It when the winter sky was black; When wintry winds blew fiercely past my door, My joy was killed and hope remained no more. I lost a day that I can ne'er reclaim, A day that 1 could ill afford to lose; It was a day when one all breathless came Imparting to me dismal, doleful news Which left me with no visions that were glad. That scattered all the fond hopes which I had. The news he brought was false ah, but to me 'Twas bitter truth through all that dismal dis-mal day; Had he hut waited till the morrow, glee That much I prized had ne'er been swept away Had he not come to uselessly destroy, I would be richer by one day of Joy. Why haste, you that have sad news to Impart? Why do you rush to hunt your victim down? Why not let gladness linger In his heart. Why run to see his smile become a frown? Let them be doomed to bite the vilest dust Who come with 111 reports before they must. |