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Miscellaneous Poems

By the Revd John Mitford

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21

A. B.

[The silver dove is sleeping in her nest]

The silver dove is sleeping in her nest,
As sleeps the flow'ret in its little cell;
And she is now, a breathless thing, at rest,
And earth has listened to her last farewell.
'Tis said, that silence is not dumb,—'tis said,
That marble lips are eloquent, and speak
With voice resistless,—Language of the Dead,—
And I, the Living,—I alone am weak.
Yet striving in my weakness,—though too late,
Her gentle virtues to the world I gave;
The last to linger by life's closing gate;—
Then placed this wreath of cypress on her grave.