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And you stay here still—ever vainly fair,

Ever in weeds?

Ever.

Still faithful?

Still.

Am I forgiven?

Ay, since I am here.

His was a soul, you say?…

Ah!—when you knew him!

Ah, may be!…I, perchance, too little knew him. …And his last letter, ever next your heart?

Hung from this chain, a gentle scapulary.