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XII.

TO ———.

As soldiers from the ramparts of a town
O'erlooking fields where they have lately striven,
Tell from what points to what the foe was driven,
And where at length decisively o'erthrown;
So pacing the clear battlements of Heaven,
Hope tells how we may one day looking down
Point out where such and such a grace was given,
And where at length the beatific crown.
O Friend, what jubilant outcry will go forth
Among the stars when we this place espy
Where (God's best gift!) we first received each other:
O fellow Soul! O brother more than brother!
May some be listening then upon the earth
To catch the admonition of that cry!