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Joseph Courtney
Borne on an unseen wind to the far throne of God.
And, Mothers, see; O Maidens, look
How the world's Christ stoops down and kisses each.
And listen now and hear their cry,
As, lances raised, they greet their King—
"There is no death . . . There is no death . . .
No death . . ." and comfort you,
When the leaves fall.
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