The Lustre of the flowers
Some in a child would live, some in a book;
— When I am dead let there remain of me
Less than a word — a little passing look,
Some sign the soul had once, ere she forsook
— The form of life to live eternally.
— When I am dead let there remain of me
Less than a word — a little passing look,
Some sign the soul had once, ere she forsook
— The form of life to live eternally.
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