Last Words
Dead! all's done with!
-- R. Browning.
These blossoms that I bring,
This song that here I sing,
These tears that now I shed,
I give unto the dead.
There is no more to be done,
Nothing beneath the sun,
All the long ages through,
Nothing--by me for you.
The tale is told to the end;
This, ev'n, I may not know--
If we were friend and friend,
If we were foe and foe.
All's done with utterly,
All's done with. Death to me
Was ever Death indeed;
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