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And your reward is peace; for heaven, Whose better part you chose, Already to your life has given The blessing of repose.

Sweet friend, the world is yet with me, Its vanity, its care; Vain hopes for things that may not be, Regrets for those that are!

This cannot last! I will believe That I shall learn to know A hope that will not all deceive, A trust not placed below.

I needs must weep—I fain would pray For light athwart the gloom; One promise of that holier day Whose morning is the tomb! L. E. L.