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23
At Even
O toilers of the day!How, when the even-calm
Droppeth like sweetest balm
Upon your weary brows, can ye not pray?
But nay!
Some to the hot play-house,
Some to the rank carouse,
Forgetting God, ye go astray.
And all the while above,
The lamps of heavenly love,
The shining stars, show the more excellent way.
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