LIFE.
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Some lily on a thornless stem, Whose spotless waxen bloomWill watch with bended head beside Our ashes in the tomb.Some friend who in our darkest hour Will bear our burdens too,And prove himself that Godlike thing— The trusted, tried, and true.
We have our crosses and our crowns, Our days of shine and shade,And every heart a secret shrine Where some dead hope is laid.But when our course is finished here And all its work is done,Then we will find 't was but a dream, And Life is just begun.