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Of evening, where the lover's eyes go blind With dreaming on the hollows of your face. BUT ONLY MINE I dreamed that I was dead, as all men do, And feared the dream, though hardly for the sake Of any thrust of pain my flesh might take Below the softening shales. Bereft of you, I lay for days and days alone, I knew Somewhere above me boughs were burning gold, And women's frocks were loose, and men grew old. Grew old. And shrivelled. Asked the time of day. And then forgot. Turned. Looked among the grass. Tripped on a twig. Frightened some leaves away. Children. And girls. I knew, above my face, Rabbit and jay flocked, wondering how to cross An empty field stripped naked to the sun. They halted into a shadow, huddled down. Rabbit and jay,old man, and girl, and child, All moved above me, dreaming of broad light. I heard you walking through the empty field. Startled awake, I found my riving sight: The grave drifted away, and it was night, I felt your soft despondent shoulders near. Out of my dream, the dead rose everywhere. I did not dream your death, but only mine. 76 ...

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