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DIVES AND LAZARUS
Where the pinch’d face against the glass
Might watch him fling down gold
For a few flowers, that all would be
Dust ere the week was old.
Then turned the beggar to the cur
That shivering by him stood:
“Ay, Mick! yon lad has gold for flowers;
We haven’t pence for food!”
But ah! those instant-lifted eyes,
How loving, patient, true!
Till Love in those down-cast cried out
“Right, friend! I have got you!”
—He of the rare load, coming home,
Upon a cold still bed
Cast it, with tears. He, too, had had
One friend. She lay there, dead.
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