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V

Where did you go, old Unafraid?
Up to a place where children played—
The happy hubbub the small three made!

Patter and prattle and toys and games,
Dolls in rows with curious names,

Voices lifted like high thin tunes,
Lively suppers with round-tipped spoons!

Where should I go but up the stair
To the welcome I knew was waiting there?

But all was dark, as only can be
A long deserted nursery;
And never a sound to succor me.

VI

So I turned to a room where a woman slept
In a gay gold bed, and near I crept,

And lingered and listened—oh anguished morn,
Oh fluty cry of a babe new-born,
Clearer than trumpeting Gabriel's horn!

Oh sea of Life, with Love for a chart—
On with the tale, old Hungry Heart!

VII

On with the tale and on to a door
Where a man had passed to pass no more:

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