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baby shower poem

daughter, thou art come to die
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
the saddest of the year
the swan existing
bring me soft song
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
there is a city, builded by no hand
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
those black eyes i once so praised
to the passionate lover
there was never a sound beside the wood but one

 



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