Poems, Series 1: XXXVII.
XXXVII.
If I should n't be alive
When the robins come,
Give the one in red cravat
A memorial crumb.
If I could n't thank you,
Being just asleep,
You will know I'm trying
With my granite lip!
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If I should n't be alive
When the robins come,
Give the one in red cravat
A memorial crumb.
If I could n't thank you,
Being just asleep,
You will know I'm trying
With my granite lip!
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