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I could, I think, I could have brooked, 
E’en for a time, that thou 
Upon my fading face had’st looked, 
With less of love than now; 
For then I should at least have felt 
The sweet hope still my own, 
To win thee back, and whilst thou dwelt 
On earth, not been alone! 
But thus, to see from day to day, 
Thy brightening eye and cheek, 
And watch thy life-sands waste away, 
Unnumbered, slowly, meek; 
To meet thy look of tenderness, 
And catch the feeble tone 
Of kindness, ever breathed to bless, 
And feel, I ’ll be alone ! 
To mark thy strength each hour decay, 
And yet thy hopes grow stronger, 
As filled with heavenward trust, they say, 
£ Earth may not claim thee longer; ’ 
