We, love’s pensioners,
Sighed with trembling,
“What if he should die?”
Now we bury him,
Hardly dissembling
How are eyes are dry.
Long we followed him,
Stumbling blindly—
Oh, but the way was steep!
Now, Requiescat!
Think of him kindly—
Bury him deep.
We, love’s pensioners,
Sighed with trembling,
“What if he should die?”
Now we bury him,
Hardly dissembling
How are eyes are dry.
Long we followed him,
Stumbling blindly—
Oh, but the way was steep!
Now, Requiescat!
Think of him kindly—
Bury him deep.
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