There's something quieter than sleep Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon it's breast - And will not tell it's name. Some touch it, and some kiss it - Some chafe it's idle hand - It has a simple gravity I do not understand!
I would not weep if I were they - How rude in one to sob! Might scare the quiet fairy Back to her native wood!
While simple-hearted neighbors Chat of the "Early dead" - We - prone to periphrasis, Remark that Birds have fled!
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