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Rh And since she died,$12$ rapture of my young years, Lore, and abiding pole-star of my life! A marble cross, that gleams amid the gloom Shines ever in dim vistas of my soul; And I desire to lay my toil-worn limbs Under still leaves of some primæval grove, As she, my well-beloved, resteth hers. She sail'd from England, to divide my care, With brave Mackenzie's and another's wife: Alas! Mackenzie and his friend had fallen In the stern path of duty when they came! And these two white-faced women wept alone Over two very silent forest graves. Alas! how soon I wept beside another; For very soon my Mary went to rest. (Her venerable father, Moffat, only Is known among the tribes of Africa As my own Mary's father, as Ra-Mary.) The fever seized her, and she pass'd away: She pass'd at sunset on a Sabbath eve, And left my feet to wander in the shade.