He passed when Sally was barely four And the Appleton kindred breathed once more And, with some fervor, began to try To bury the bone of his memory And strictly expunge from his daughter’s semblance All possible traces of a resemblance. Which system succeeded, to outward view, As well as most of such systems do And resulted in mixing a martyr’s potions For “French” Dupré in his daughter’s notions.

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