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A poem delivered in the first congregational church in the town of Quincy, May 25, 1840

the two hundredth anniversary of the incorporation of the town

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And did not He who watched above them hear?
And felt they not that He was ever near?
They were not all alone—for God was there.
And whispered peace amid their fervent prayer.—
He who dwells not in temples made with hands,
But in the heart that yields to His commands,
Shone round about them—and the Spirit's ray
Turned all their darkest midnights into day.