Hendry Wordsworth Poems

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1.
In My Weakest Weeks

No longer can I write abed with ease,
For my bedewed body Writhes in pain
Dire Ailments, why me? can I be plain?
I wilt like a lily rose struck by a disease-
...

2.
For My Deceased Father

The muffled sound of the driven dirge,
Beyond all limits it howled ceaselessly-
In the cemetery towards every edge
Untimely death slyly jabbed listlessly-
...

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