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In Memoriam A.H.H.
Her
eyes are homes of silent prayer,
Nor other thought her mind admits
But, he was dead, and there he sits,
And
he that brought him back is there.
Then
one deep love doth supersede
All other, when her ardent gaze
Roves from the living brother’s face,
And
rests upon the Life indeed.
All
subtle thought, all curious fears,
Borne down by gladness so complete,
She bows, she bathes the Saviour’s feet
With
costly spikenard and with tears.
Thrice
blest whose lives are faithful prayers,
Whose loves in higher love endure;
What souls possess themselves so pure,
Or
is there blessedness like theirs?
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