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" "And while the memory of self remains,
While life's warm spirit quickens in my veins,
Still shall your worth be treasured in my breast;
And still Elissa's virtues be confess'd.
Charles Symmons (1749 – 27 April 1826) was a Welsh poet and priest.
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—————————— to death's abode
Prone lies the path, and facile is the road.
To all who seek them open day and night,
Pluto's black gates with broad access invite.
But to recall the foot, retrace the way
Up the dark steep, and re-assert the day—
This is the labor, this the mighty feat,
Achieved by few, the greatest of the great.