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Henry Austin Dobson
1840 - 1921


Here is this leafy place

Quiet he lies,

Cold, with his sightless face

Turn'd to the skies:

"Tis but another dead:

All you can say is said.

Carry his body hence !

Kings must have slaves:

Kings climb to eminence

Over men's graves:

So this man's eye is dim; ---

Throw the earth over him !

What was the white you touch'd,

There, at his side?

Paper his hand had clutch'd

Tight ere he died:

Message or wish, may be:

Smooth the folds out and see !

Hardly the worst of us

Here could have smiled !

Only the tremulous

Words of a child:

Prattle that has for stops

Just a few ruddy drops.

Look !   ---   "She is sad to miss,

Morning and night,

His ( her dead father's ) kiss;

Tries to be bright,

Good to Mamma, and sweet: "

(That is all )  ---  "Marguerite."

Ah !    If beside the dead

Slumber'd the pain;

Ah !    If the hearts that bled

Slept with the slain;

If the grief died: --- but no !

Death will not have it so.


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