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Robert Laurence Binyon - Lament
Work rating: Low

Fall now, my cold thoughts, frozen fall
 My sad thoughts, over my heart,
 To be the tender burial
 Of sweetness and of smart.

 Fall soft as the snow, when all men sleep,
 On copse and on bank forlorn,
 That tenderly buries, yet buries deep
 Frail violets, freshly born.
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