Once Before by Mary Mapes Dodge.
Part 3 of 3.
The spell has
passed. What spendthrifts we, Of simple, household certainty!
What golden grain we trample low
Searching for flowers that never grow!
Why, home is real, and love is real;
Nor false our honest high ideal.
Life,—it is bounding, warm, and strong,—
And all my heart resounds with song.
It must be true, whate’er befall,
This and the world to come are all.
And yet it puzzles me—alack!—
When life that could not be, comes back!
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