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Rh

Oft in still night-dreams a departed face Bends o'er me with sweet earnestness of eye, Wearing no more of earthly pains a trace, But all the tender pity that may lie On the clear brow of Immortality, Calm yet profound. Soft rays illume that mien, The unshadowed moonlight of some far off sky Around it floats transparently serene As a pure veil of waters. O rich sleep! Thou hast strong spirits in thy regions deep, Which glorify with reconciling breath, Effacing, brightening, giving forth to shine Beauty's high truth, and how much more divine Thy power when linked in this, with thy stern brother—Death!