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In Memoriam A.H.H.

         
            LVIII.
             
      In those sad words I took farewell:
          Like echoes in sepulchral halls,
          As drop by drop the water falls
      In vaults and catacombs, they fell;

      And, falling, idly broke the peace
          Of hearts that beat from day to day,
          Half-conscious of their dying clay,
      And those cold crypts where they shall cease.

      The high Muse answer’d: ‘Wherefore grieve
          Thy brethren with a fruitless tear?
          Abide a little longer here,
      And thou shalt take a nobler leave.’
       


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