John Bannister Tabb

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The Twilight to my Star,
Her hoary head
A Hope receding far,
To Life re-led.

Apart and poor I lay;
My fevered frame
Slow withering away,
When soft she came,

From comfort, to my care;
And Pity sweet
Subdued her, kneeling there,
To kiss my feet.

A Magdalen adored
Her God in Thee:--
A greater love, O Lord,
Anointed me.

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