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XIII

TO H. F. BROWN

(Written during a dangerous sickness.)

I sit and wait a pair of oars
On cis-Elysian river-shores.
Where the immortal dead have sate,
'Tis mine to sit and meditate;
To re-ascend life's rivulet,
Without remorse, without regret;
And sing my Alma Genetrix
Among the willows of the Styx.


And lo, as my serener soul

Did these unhappy shores patrol,