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And wood and fountain, speak of time gone by;— And Hope springs up in joy from Memory's ashes.

felt not these:—that crucifix Was all that wore the look of other days— 'Twas as a dear companion. Parents, home, And, more than all,, whose pure reign, Troubled by the wild passions of his youth, Had now regained its former influence,— All seemed to hear the vows he made for her, To share his hopes, feel for his deep remorse, And bless him, and look forward.

And at last Once more the white sail bore him o'er the sea, And he saw again. But war was there—