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funeral poem

i have heard them in the night
last midnight
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
you are beautiful and faded
she limps with halting painful pace
i see all human wits
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
gone before us
love me at last, or if you will not
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
there by the window in the old house
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
out of me unworthy and unknown

 



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