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14
POEMS.
They heed no more the tempest's shock
Or billows dashing wild.

There sleeps the sire whose head was bowed
Beneath the weight of years,
Whose furrowed cheek the traces wore
Of cares, and griefs, and tears.

The blooming maiden lately decked
For bridal and for ball;
A blue wave is her winding-sheet,
The rolling surf her pall.

And manhood, to whose beaming eye
The future brightly shone,
There lies in dreamless slumber locked,
Hope's fairy visions flown.

The haughty monarch and his slave,
They sleep there, side by side;
One has his sorrows all forgot,
The other all his pride.

The noble from his princely hall,
The peasant from his cot,
On the same pillow rest their heads,
And share one common lot.