stand now—as authors as well as women—before the judgment-seat，
Thy steps to my steps, lean thine aged frame on mine.
Wanderer, now thou art at rest,
From what far country art thou come,
Strangers, I have no country. O forbear--
What is it, old man, that thou wouldst conceal?
Forbear, nor urge me further to reveal--
What must I answer, child, ah welladay!
Say of what stock thou comest, what man's son--
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