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There was many a grave, yet not even there Had his father found a tomb.

They traversed a bleak and barren heath, Till they came to a gloomy wood, Where the dark trees droop'd, and the dark grass grew, As cursed with the sight of blood.

There stood a lorn and blasted tree, As heaven and earth were its foes, And beneath was a piled up mound of stones, Whence a rude gray cross arose.

"And lo!" said the ancient servitor, "It is here thy father is laid;