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In Memoriam A.H.H.

         
            LXVII.
             
      When on my bed the moonlight falls,
          I know that in thy place of rest
          By that broad water of the west,
      There comes a glory on the walls:

      Thy marble bright in dark appears,
          As slowly steals a silver flame
          Along the letters of thy name,
      And oer the number of thy years.

      The mystic glory swims away;
          From off my bed the moonlight dies;
          And closing eaves of wearied eyes
      I sleep till dusk is dipt in gray:

      And then I know the mist is drawn
          A lucid veil from coast to coast,
          And in the dark church like a ghost
      Thy tablet glimmers to the dawn.
       


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