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—Hush'd, hush'd—how is it that I call, And that thou answerest not? When was it thus?—woe, woe for all The love my soul forgot!

"Thy silver hairs I see,   So still, so sadly bright! And father, father! but for me,    They had not been so white! I bore thee down, high heart! at last,    No longer couldst thou strive;— Oh! for one moment of the past,    To kneel and say—'forgive!'

"Thou wert the noblest king,   On royal throne e'er seen; And thou didst wear, in knightly ring,    Of all, the stateliest mien; And thou didst prove, where spears are prov'd    In war, the bravest heart— —Oh! ever the renown'd and lov'd    Thou wert—and there thou art!