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Are not therefore abandoned. Many souls From cloister'd cells, from hermits' caves, from holds Of lonely banishment, and from the dark And dreary prison-house, do raise their thoughts With humble cheerfulness to heaven, and feel A hallowed quiet, almost akin to joy; And may not I, by heaven's kind mercy aided, Weak as I am, with some good courage bear What is appointed for me?O be cheer'd! And let not sad and mournful thoughts of me Depress thee thus.—When thou art far away, Thou'lt hear, the while, that in my father's house I spend my peaceful days, and let it cheer thee. I too shall ev'ry southern stranger question, Whom chance may to these regions bring, and learn Thy fame and prosperous state.

My fame and prosperous state, while thou art thus! If thou in calm retirement liv'st contented, Lifting thy soul to heaven, what lack I more? My sword and spear, changed to a pilgrim's staff, Will be a prosperous state; and for my fame,— A feeble sound that after death remains, The echo of an unrepeated stroke