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By oaks and roses

when life is quite through with
and leaves say alas,
much is to do
for the swallow, that closes
a flight in the blue;

when love’s had his tears out,
perhaps shall pass
a million years
(while a bee doses
on the poppies, the dears;

when all’s done and said, and
under the grass
lies her head,
by oaks and roses
deliberated.)

e.e. cummings

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