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GONE.
55
"A soul, that climbing hour by hour the silver-shining stair
That leads to God's great treasure-house, grew covetous; and there

"Was stored no blessing and no boon, for thee she did not claim,
(So lowly, yet importunate!) and ever with thy name

"She link'd—that none in earth or heaven might hinder it or stay—
One Other Name, so strong, that thine hath never missed its way.

"This very night within my arms this gracious soul I bore
Within the Gate, where many a prayer of hers had gone before;

"And where she resteth, evermore one constant song they raise.
Of 'Holy, holy,' so that now I know not if she prays;

"But for the voice of Praise in heaven, a voice of Prayer hath gone
From Earth; thy name upriseth now no more; pray on, pray on!"