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First Line: The form's divinity, the heart's best grace
Last Line: Of one best union of that deathless twain.
Subject(s): Epitaphs; Graves; Tombs; Tombstones


THE form's divinity, the heart's best grace,
Where are they? Have they their immortal throne
Upon thy maiden's thought, and peerless face,
Thou cold-eyed reader? Yet beneath this stone
Dust lies, weeds grow: and this is the remain
Of one best union of that deathless twain.





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