< Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu
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��Should hang thereon, his echo-taunt of shame, How dar'st thou trifle with all-fearful thought P
Beware of thoughts. They whisper to the heavens. Though mute to thee, they prompt the diamond pen Of the recording angel.
Make them friends ! Those dread seed-planters for Eternity, Those sky-reporting heralds. Make them friends !
�� �
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