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There blend the ties that strengthen Our hearts in hours of grief, The silver links that lengthen Joy's visits when most brief.

the soft green light in the woody glade, On the banks of moss where thy childhood play'd; By the household tree thro' which thine eye First look'd in love to the summer-sky; By the dewy gleam, by the very breath Of the primrose tufts in the grass beneath, Upon thy heart there is laid a spell, Holy and precious—oh! guard it well!