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She, At His Funeral

Rating: 3.0

They bear him to his resting-place—
In slow procession sweeping by;
I follow at a stranger’s space;
His kindred they, his sweetheart I.
Unchanged my gown of garish dye,
Though sable-sad is their attire;
But they stand round with griefless eye,
Whilst my regret consumes like fire!

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Mizzy ........ 21 August 2016

I love this poem.....it deserves much comment!

0 1 Reply

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