SACRED TO THE MEMORY
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VERTURE—A SOLEMN DIRGE. AIR—TRIO. ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,And waken every note of woe;When truth and virtue reach the skies,’Tis ours to weep the want below!
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— William Blake
Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole:
Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Or Love in a golden bowl?
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