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Alcott

Alcott
Alcott's Grave

From “Transfiguration”
 

We thought to weep, but sing for joy instead,
Full of the grateful peace
That follows her release;
For nothing but the weary dust lies dead.

Oh, noble woman! never more a queen
Than in the laying down
Of sceptre and of crown
To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen;

Teaching us how to seek the highest goal,
To earn the true success—
To live, to love, to bless—
And make death proud to take a royal soul.


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