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(As to their number,) to their dignities.

She whom we celebrate is gone before:

She who had here so much essential

joy,

As no chance could distract, much less destroy;

Who with God's presence was acquainted so,

(Hearing and speaking to him,) as to know

His face in any natural stone or tree
Better than when in images they be:
Who kept by diligent devotion
God's image in such reparation
Within her heart, that what decay

was grown Was her first Parent's fault, and not her own:

Who, being solicited to any act, Still heard God pleading his safe pre-contract:

Who, by a faithful confidence was here

Betrothed to God, and now is married there:

Whose twilights were more clear than our mid-day; Who dreamed devoutlier than most

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Unbodied choose a sanctuary. I

twine

My hopes of being remembered in my line

With my land's language; if too fond and far

These aspirations in their scope incline,

If my fame should be as my fortunes are,

Of hasty growth and blight, and dull Oblivion bar

My name from out the temple where the dead

Are honored by the nations - let it be,

And light the laurels on a loftier head!

And be the Spartan's epitaph on

me,

"Sparta hath many a worthier son than he."

BYRON.

FARE THEE WELL.

FARE thee well! and if forever,
Still forever, fare thee well!
Even though unforgiving, never

'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee

Where thy head so oft has lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee

Which thou ne'er canst know

again:

Would that breast, by thee glanced

over,

Every inmost thought could show! Then thou wouldst at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this commend thee,

Though it smile upon the blow, Even its praises must offend thee, Founded on another's woe. Though my many faults defaced me, Could no other arm be found Than the one which once embraced

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