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SONG.

[Man-like her lover was to see]

Man-like her lover was to see,
But stern and cold of soul was he,
Of cold and sordid kindred born;
And when he found the maid was poor,
He pass'd in scorn her decent door,
He dug her grave with scorn.
Unstain'd as vernal snow, she died;
Like snow, that melts on Rother's side,
When April's sun in trouble sets:
Her life was but a day of showers;
And, oh, it closed o'er songless bowers
And drooping violets!