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THE MEMORY OF THE DEAD.
Forget them not! though now their name
Be but a mournful sound,
Though by the hearth its utterance claim
A stillness round:
Though for their sake this earth no more
As it hath been, may be,
And shadows, never marked before,
Brood o'er each tree:
And though their image dim the sky,
Yet, yet, forget them not!
Nor, where their love and life went by,
Forsake the spot!