Dylan Thomas (27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953 / Swansea / Wales)
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All That I Owe the Fellows of the Grave
All that I owe the fellows of the grave
And all the dead bequeathed from pale estates
Lies in the fortuned bone, the flask of blood,
Like senna stirs along the ravaged roots.
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Hits & posts of the poem: All That I Owe the Fellows of the Grave
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