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A poem by Abram Joseph Ryan

We borrow,
In our sorrow,
From the sun of some to-morrow
Half the light that gilds to-day;
And the splendor
Flashes tender
O'er hope's footsteps to defend her
From the fears that haunt the way.

We never
Here can sever
Any now from the forever
Interclasping near and far!
For each minute
Holds within it
All the hours of the infinite,
As one sky holds every star.