By: Ardis E. Parshall - January 01, 2019 A Fragment By Thomas Ward I mark’d him as he stood with downcast eye,Whence, ever and anon, a tear would start;While with convulsive throb his bosom heav’d;‘Twas nature’s final struggle to o’ercomeThe high resolve, the purpose of the soulTo serve the God of Heaven; but he stoodAnd conquered, though he sever’d every linkThat bound him to his father’s house, and allHis heart had lov’...
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