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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
And some, far down below the sounding wave,—
Still shall they lie, though tempests o'er them sweep;
Never may flower be strewn above their grave,
Never may sister weep!
And thou—the billow's queen—even thy proud form
On our glad sight no more perchance may swell;
Yet God alike is in the calm and storm—
Fare thee well, bark! farewell!
