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The Student.
ALONE he sat. His broad and lofty brow
Was bent upon his thin, pale hand; his locks
Of jet hung o'er it with a darkened shade;
His black and glistening eye gleamed with some deep
And sad and earnest thought; his cheek was white—
White as the Parian stone; his quivering lip
Was blanched to Death's own hue; and the blue veins
That branched along his temples seemed to throb
With the strong spirit's fever.

               All alone,
In the dim twilight's calm rind solemn hour,
He sat and mused upon his far-off house,
His happy childhood's faded years, and all
The beauty and the glory that had passed