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XXIV.

In the cold early morn
The ringing at the bell,—the message sent!
Through the dark streets I went,
Encountering full death's glance of scorn.
O silent streets, O night
That ended as the light
So dim, so cheerless, so heart-broken, came,
Were ye the very same,
The same streets, and the night
Through which a few short hours before
I passed, while all around seemed bright?
Even so the ship is doomed when nearest shore.