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THE MAIL

But finally his efforts lived to show

What dignity the human soul can know:

The immortality of such a man

Rests here on earth, for die it will nor can.

Predestination found no harbor here,

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Nor helplessness, one knows, nor phthisic fear:

Long words, like these, above him wove no spell

Although he knew their derivation well. . .

That day before me shook no massive head

A-tremble with the groans of fancied dead;

Not here the timid, faithless demagogue

To hide behind a self-created fog.

Instead I heard a humanist, the best,

Who spoke ad hominem and hoped the rest.

I did not have to read his "Bible Stories"

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