Where I have lost, I softer tread - I sow sweet flower from garden bed - I pause above that vanished head And mourn. Whom I have lost, I pious guard From accent harsh, or ruthless word - Feeling as if their pillow heard, Though stone!
When I have lost, you'll know by this - A Bonnet black - A dusk surplice - A little tremor in my voice Like this!
Why, I have lost, the people know Who dressed in frocks of purest snow Went home a century ago Next Bliss!
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