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"Ah! sad it is when one
thus linked departs!
When Death, that mighty severer of true hearts,
Sweeps through the halls so lately loud in mirth,
And leaves pale Sorrow weeping by the hearth!
Bitter it is to wander there alone,
To fill the vacant place, the empty chair,
With a dear vision of the loved one gone,
And start to see it vaguely melt in air!
Bitter to find all joy that once hath been
Double its value when 'tis passed away, -
To feel the blow which Time should make less keen
Increase its burden each successive day, -
To need good counsel, and to miss the voice,
The ever trusted, and the ever true,
Whose tones were wont to cheer our faltering choice,
And show what holy Virtue bade us do, -
To bear deep wrong, and bow the widowed head
In helpless anguish, no one to defend;
Or worse, - in lieu of him, the kindly dead,
Claim faint assistance from some lukewarm friend, -
Yet scarce perceive the extent of all our loss
Till the fresh tomb be green with gathering moss -
Till many a morn have met our saddened eyes
With none to say "Good morrow;" - many an eve
Sent its red glory through the tranquil skies,
Each bringing with it deeper cause to grieve!
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