From this our changeful world, the matron's clay,
Who to this world, at least, with equal care,
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Brought them its changes, good and ill to share.
Now to his grave was Roger Cuff convey'd,
And strong resentment's lingering spirit laid.
Shipwreck'd in youth, he home return'd, and found
His brethren three—and thrice they wish'd him drown'd.
"Is this a landman's love? Be certain then,
We part for ever!"—and they cried, "Amen!"