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But Don’t Do It
If you should die— If you should die tonight, I think I’d try— I know I would—to write A lilting, laughing, rippling song Whose every line should dance along, Whose every glimpse of sky was blue, Whose every vista to the view Was full of light, With shadows all put by, And starry-bright Should be the night-time sky; I’d write a lilting thing to you If you should die tonight.
A lilting thing, I would, I’d write to you; One that should sing! What though the tears bedew The page my pencil traced across? I’d see the wind-stirred branches toss, I’d think of times we twain have had, I’d think of you, so always glad, And I would know That it was well with you; Where’er you go, There gladness shall go, too; Living again the times we’ve had, I’d weave a song for you.
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