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Rh

And see, good Nurse, that where the cold wind enter'd Thou stop the crevice well. Oh! that his head, His dear and honour'd head, should so be laid, While I am couch'd on down! Thou say'st his face Look'd not so sadly as before.

Indeed I thought so, Madam: he spoke cheerily, And listen'd to my stories of past days, As if he liked to hear them.

Alas! the very sound of human words, Address'd to him in peace, is now a solace Enjoy'd but rarely.—I must talk and smile, And keep my station at the social board, While my sad heart is thinking of his silent And lonely state.—There is my picture then, Since he desires to have it. (Giving her a picture, which heshe [sic] puts into the basket.)