Page:Poems Terry, 1861.djvu/62

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58
Recordare.
For the living be the moan.
Widowed, motherless, alone,
Love! alone for them and me,
Here I sit and mourn for thee.

Cradled in divine repose,
Thy new life of rapture flows.
God be thanked! too blest to see
How I sit and mourn for thee!

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