344 `Twas the old — road — through pain — That unfrequented — one — With many a turn — and thorn — That stops — at Heaven — This — was the Town — she passed — There — where she — rested — last — Then — stepped more fast — The little tracks — close prest — Then — not so swift — Slow — slow — as feet did weary — grow — Then — stopped — no other track! Wait! Look! Her little Book — The leaf — at love — turned back — Her very Hat — And this worn shoe just fits the track — Herself — though — fled! Another bed — a short one — Women make — tonight — In Chambers bright — Too out of sight — though — For our hoarse Good Night — To touch her Head!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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