718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine— I meant to tell Her how I longed For just this single time— But Death had told Her so the first— And she had past, with Him— To wander—now—is my Repose— To rest—To rest would be A privilege of Hurricane To Memory—and Me.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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