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sad death poem

the saddest of the year
there were three in the meadow by the brook
listen to the sounding sea
one by one, like leaves from a tree
all within and all without me
rocked in the cradle of the deep
though i am little as all little things
glooms of the live-oaks
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray

 



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