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THE GOLD NUGGET. 139
O marriage-ring ! Close, closer cling, Tho grief and sorrow shall betide !
Art thou a pen, whose task shall be
To drown in ink
What thinkers think ?
Oh, wisely write,
That pages white Be not the worse for ink and thee.
A clasp to hold the baby s sleeve,
That shoulders white
May shame the light ?
Oh, kiss the skin
Thy links within Thy tracery on its whiteness leave.
A golden eagle hidden close
In miser s clutch
From gen rous touch?
O eagle, fly !
Where misery For thee shall hide its wants and woes.
Be worthy of thyself, O gold !
By brain outwrought,
By soft heart taught ;
Call charity to work with thee
Untiringly, And so be better than thy mould.
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