Untitled Fragments
Elizabeth Siddal |
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1 Autumn leaves are falling 2 About her new-made grave 3 Where the tall grass bends to listen 4 To the murmur of the wave. 5 Laden autumn, here I stand 6 With my sheaves in either hand; 7 Speak the word that sets me free, 8 Naught but rest seems good to me. |
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