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The Return

HE went, and he was gay to go;
And I smiled on him as he went.
My son, ’twas well he couldn’t know
My darkest dread, nor what it meant—
 
Just what it meant to smile and smile
And let my son go cheerily—
My son... and wondering all the while
What stranger would come back to me.
Autres oeuvres par Wilfrid Wilson Gibson...



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