Death of the Day
My pictures blacken in their frames
As night comes on,
And youthful maids and wrinkled dames
Are now all one.
Death of the day! a sterner Death
Did worse before;
The fairest form, the sweetest breath,
As night comes on,
And youthful maids and wrinkled dames
Are now all one.
Death of the day! a sterner Death
Did worse before;
The fairest form, the sweetest breath,
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