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50

WITHIN THY NARROW CELL.

A little longer beat,my heart,
Within thy narrow cell,
Tolling the watches of the night
[[strikethrough]] As [[strikethrough]] Like some lone convent bell.

When all is dark and lone and still,
The hour with silence fraught,
Thy distant footsteps echo through
The colonnades of thought.

But yesterday another breast
Grew happy near to thee-
That yesterday is swept away
On Time's fast-ebbing sea.

Though rough and rougher grows the road
And dusky seems the way-
A little longer beat,my heart,
I'll lose thee ere the day.

Orange mountain,1885.