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XXVI.

And where two haughty maidens used to be,

In pride of plume, where plumy Death had trod, Trailing their gorgeous velvets wantonly,

Most unmeet pall, over the holy sod ;

There, gentle stranger, thou may'st only see

Two sombre Peacocks.

-Age, with sapient nod

Marking the spot, still tarries to declare

How they once lived, and wherefore they are there.

MINOR POEMS.

1827.

A RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW.

OH, when I was a tiny boy

My days and nights were full of joy,
My mates were blithe and kind!

No wonder that I sometimes sigh,
And dash the tear-drop from my eye,

To cast a look behind!

A hoop was an eternal round

Of pleasure. In those days I found

A top a joyous thing;

But now those past delights I drop,

My head, alas! is all my top,

And careful thoughts the string!

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