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TO * * * *

The patriot flame did next relume,
  With heavenliest light, the dreary void;
By this is nerved the soul to doom,
  For thee the good and brave have died.

And love of wealth, and love of lore,
  And various promptings striving still—
Thoughts, feelings, instincts, wondrous store,
  Disturbed the breast or swayed the will.

Then pitying Mercy saw the storm
  That raged untamed man's breast within.
And bounteous sent a radiant form
  To calm the wild tumultuous din.

'Rayed in all loveliness and grace
  An angel did this comer prove;
Her blithesome form, her lightsome face,
  And smile benign proclaimed her Love.

Thus, thus dear * * * *, every thought
  Alternate sways my fancy free;
But still returning care o'erwrought
  That fancy clings, dear girl, to thee.