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sad death poem

i saw the clouds among the hills
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
let us plant
lo! 'tis a gala night
the body may confine
the snow whispers about me
earth travails
all my love for my sweet
by the rude bridge
the smell of the rose so false, the thorns so true


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