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That kindred hands might close thine eye,
And kindred hands place thee in earth.
But no;--strange faces watched thy dying pain,
And strangers laid thy body in the main!
Another grave! another name
Graved on the lonely church-yard stone,
Another youthful heart at rest,
Another youthful spirit flown!
And oft parental love shall seek
To pour its aching sorrow here,
And oft fraternal fondness bring
Its anguish and its tear.
And thou, too, in a foreign land
Didst follow after sacred lore,
Still panting for the joys of home,
When all thy wanderings were o'er.
But soon, alas! ere many days
Had joined thee to that long-wished home,
That blooming head and youthful frame
Were slumbering in the tomb!
Dear Youth! as by thine early grave
I hear the long grass, dirge-like, sigh,
Bright thoughts of other years arise
Till sorrow fills mine eye.
I think of youth, and joy, and bloom,
Of childhood's sports, and boyhood's glee,
When life seemed all a golden dream,
And each young heart beat free.
The happy sun that smiled at morn,
The bird that called us forth to play,
Awaked us then to no sad thought,
Awaked us to no toiling day;

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