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THE UNQUIET GRAVE
v
' You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;
But my breath smells earthy strong; If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips, Your time will not be long.
VI |
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''Tis down in yonder garden green, Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that ere was seen Is wither' d to a stalk.
VII
6 The stalk is witherM dry, my love, So will our hearts decay;
So maKe yourself content, my love, Till God calls you away.' |
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BOOK II |
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141 |
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