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Then, as their glorious course I mark, 
And think of the sages old, 
Who deemed from their mysteries, strange and 
dark, 
Fate’s web they could unfold; 
I blend then faith with the brighter creed, 
That lifts my soul above, 
While at the throne of grace I plead, 
For thee, my absent Love. 
I ask, if those pure orbs of light 
An influence ever wield, 
That all of beautiful and bright, 
Which hope and fancy yield, 
May with their silvery beams descend, 
In blessings full and free, 
And through the unknown future blend 
Their holiest gifts for thee ? 
