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64

II.

And in that goodly company
Each thought his neighbour ill at rest,
While from the plague himself not free,—
He bore a burthen in his breast:
And aye for fear scarce drew his breath
Through lips as ashy-pale as death.
But he, the cause of these alarms,
Knew not fear, nor thought of harms,
But like a spectre from the tomb
He slowly glided down the room,
And gazing carefully around,
He sought for one he had not found.