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was so small, so very small,

That since she ceased to care,

'T was easy just to pass him by,

Forgetting he was there;

But though too slight a thing he seemed

Of interest to be,—

One heart had loved him with a love

As boundless as the sea.

He was so poor, so very poor,

That now, since she had died,

He seemed a tiny threadbare coat

With nothing much inside;