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THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD.




Forget them not! though now their name
        Be but a mournful sound,
Though by the hearth its utterance claim
        A stillness round:

Though for their sake this earth no more
        As it hath been, may be,
And shadows, never marked before,
        Brood o'er each tree:

And though their image dim the sky,
        Yet, yet, forget them not!
Nor, where their love and life went by,
        Forsake the spot!