You walked beside me, quick and free;
With lingering touch you grasped my hand;
Your eyes looked laughingly in mine;
And now—I can not understand.
I long for you, I mourn for you,
Through all the dark and lonely hours.
Heavy the weight the pallmen lift,
And cover silently with flowers.
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Simple, rushes to the point of the quickness of death, and the weight, and questions, afterward.
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