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THE LAST COACH
Then came her child, in wonder at her mood,
Looked forth and saw, her neighbour's home before,
How two black steeds in mournful harness stood
To draw their coach of sorrow from the door.
"My neighbour's child is but a maid like thee,"
The mother cried, and swiftly heart to heart
They clung, and wept together prayerfully,
Till each sad coach did from their gaze depart.
Then came the last, where merry faces pressed
Upon the glass all laughing to be late;
And beckoning hands all ready to caress—
This humble coach did stop before their gate.
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