Epitaph
Deeply he drank of life, and scorned
The timid soul who sips,
And stumbled out into the night
With laughter on his lips.
Oh, grudge me not the like, O life,
When I too must depart —
A gallant stirrup-cup to warm
The cockles of my heart!
The timid soul who sips,
And stumbled out into the night
With laughter on his lips.
Oh, grudge me not the like, O life,
When I too must depart —
A gallant stirrup-cup to warm
The cockles of my heart!
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