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Poem by Henry Newbolt


By the Hearth-Stone


By the hearth-stone
She sits alone,
  The long night bearing:
With eyes that gleam
Into the dream
  Of the firelight staring.

Low and more low
The dying glow
  Burns in the embers;
She nothing heeds
And nothing needs---
  Only remembers.



Henry Newbolt


Henry Newbolt's other poems:
  1. Waggon Hill
  2. On Spion Kop
  3. Nel Mezzo Del Cammin
  4. The Quarter-Gunner's Yarn
  5. Northumberland


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