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 | Collected poems of Herman Melville |  |
AN EPITAPH
When Sunday tidings from the frontMade pale the priest and people,
And heavily the blessing went,
And bells were dumb in the steeple;
The Soldier's widow (summering sweetly here,
In shade by waving beeches lent)
Felt deep at heart her faith content,
And priest and people borrowed of her cheer.
| Collected poems of Herman Melville | |