Page:The Spirit of the Age.djvu/301

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"And who, with pious hand, shall bring The flowers she cherish'd, snow-drops cold, &ensp;And violets that unheeded spring, To scatter o'er her hallow'd mould?

"And who, while Memory loves to dwell Upon her name for ever dear, &ensp;Shall feel his heart with passion swell, And pour the bitter, bitter tear?