when life is quite through with
and leaves say alas,
much is to do
for the swallow,that closes
a flight in the blue;
 
when love’s had his tears out,
perhaps shall pass
a million years
(while a bee dozes
on the poppies, the dears;
 
when all’s done and said,and
under the grass
lies her head
by oaks and roses
deliberated.)

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