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It Vanished
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It Vanished

Grace Hodsdon Boutelle

May 26
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It Vanished
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Can it matter to you and me
Where the hurrying years have fled,
Since they told me you ceased to be,
Since the day when they called you dead?
Death? As a cobweb spun
By night on the dew-drenched grass,
It vanished… I saw you pass
With your face to the rising sun.
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It Vanished
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