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LETTERS 57
We all have read our letters, but one's untouched so far,
An English maiden's letter to her sweetheart at the War,
And when we write in answer to tell her how he fell,
What can we say to cheer her ? Oh, what is now to cheer her ?
There's nothing left to cheer her except the news to tell.
We'll write to her to-morrow and this is what
we'll say, He breathed her name in dying; in peace he
passed away— No words about his moaning, his anguish and
his pain, |
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