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Had there not been some recompence
To comfort those that mourn.
O Death ! the poor man’s dearest friend,
The kindest and the best!
Welcome the hour my aged limbs
Are laid with thee at rest!
The Great, the Wealthy, fear thy blow,
From pomp and pleasure torn ;
But Oh ! a blest relief to those
That weary-laden mourn.
F 1 N I &
■ -1
V',

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