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 So the dear chrysalis we hide,

For God's safe-keeping, in the tomb;

And, in firm faith and hope, we bide

The dawn that breaks the silent gloom,

Wait the fair day, the glorious hour,

The precious form, enshrined in clay,

Instinct with new-created power,

Shall wake, and heaven-ward soar away.

, October 18, 1894.