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DEAD.

Weep for the dead! Not those who gave
The dust that fills a patriot's grave;
  Not for the true arm still and cold;
  Not for the breast that the grasses fold;
  Not for the bright form under the mold;
    Not for the heart that bled.
  But weep, O weep for the coward vein!
  Dead, for it had no pulse to drain;
  Dead, for it could not feel a pain;
    Dead to the core—dead!
  Dead as a soulless sentence spoke;
  Dead as a useless promise broke;
  Dead as a sightless eye awoke:
          Dead!

Weep for the dead! Not those who went
Home by the stab of a traitor sent;
  Not for the smile we see no more;
  Not for the love on the Aiden shore;

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