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 With more than a lover's fondness
He stooped to her worn young face,
And the nursing child and the mother
He folded in one embrace.
‘Blessed be God!’ he murmured.
‘Blessed be God!’ she said;
“For I see, who once was blinded,—
I live, who once was dead.
Now mount and ride, my goodman,
As thou lovest thy own soul!
Woe's me, if my wicked fancies
Be the death of Goody Cole! “
His horse he saddled and bridled,
And into the night rode he,
Now through the great black woodland,
Now by the white-beached sea.
He rode through the silent clearings,
He came to the ferry wide,
And thrice he called to the boatman
Asleep on the other side.
He set his horse to the river,
He swam to Newbury town,
And he called up Justice Sewall
In his nightcap and his gown.
And the grave and worshipful justice
(Upon whose soul be peace!)
Set his name to the jailer's warrant
For Goodwife Cole's release.
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