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Oh, breathe not his name,
Let it sleep in the shade,
Where cold and unhonored,
His relics are laid;
Sad, silent and dark
Be the tears that we shed,
As night dew that weeps
On the grave o'er his head.
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But the night dew that falls,
Tho' in silence it weeps,
Shall brighten with vendure
The grave where he sleeps;
And the tears that we shed,
Tho' in secret it rolls,
Shall long keep his memory
Green in our souls.
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