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THE HERO.
129
While in his victor arms
A smiling infant lay,
Pleased with the flash that round his bed
Had wound its glittering ray.
The mother's speechless tears
Forth like a torrent sped,
Yet ere the throng could learn his name
That generous hero fled;
Not for the praise of man
He wrought this deed of love,
But, on a bright unfading page,
'Tis registered above.
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