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In Memoriam A.H.H.

         
            LIII.
             
      How many a father have I seen,
          A sober man, among his boys,
          Whose youth was full of foolish noise,
      Who wears his manhood hale and green:

      And dare we to this fancy give,
          That had the wild oat not been sown,
          The soil, left barren, scarce had grown
      The grain by which a man may live?

      Or, if we held the doctrine sound
          For life outliving heats of youth,
          Yet who would preach it as a truth
      To those that eddy round and round?

      Hold thou the good: define it well:
          For fear divine Philosophy
          Should push beyond her mark, and be
      Procuress to the Lords of Hell.
       


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