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funeral poem

a look is but a ray
i love to steal awhile away
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
he'd even have his joke
gone before us
i walk down the garden paths
there is a country full of wine
little park that i pass through
burly, dozing humble-bee
of sun nor stars
she said
do you hear the rain?
the body may confine
sing again the song you sung

 



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