Tell me, tell me, smiling child,
What the past is like to thee?
'An Autumn evening soft and mild,
With a wind that sighs mournfully.'
Tell me, whst is the present hour?
'A green a flowery spray
Where a young bird sits gathering its powder
To mount and fly away.'
And what is the future, happy one?
'A sea beneath a cloudless sun;
A mighty, glorious, dazzling sea
Stretching into infinity.'
Emily Brontë
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