ixtlan
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& some more
I DIED for beauty, but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? 5 “For beauty,” I replied. “And I for truth,—the two are one; We brethren are,” he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, 10 Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.
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THE LAST night that she lived, It was a common night, Except the dying; this to us Made nature different. We noticed smallest things,— 5 Things overlooked before, By this great light upon our minds Italicized, as ’t were. That others could exist While she must finish quite, 10 A jealousy for her arose So nearly infinite. We waited while she passed; It was a narrow time, Too jostled were our souls to speak, 15 At length the notice came. She mentioned, and forgot; Then lightly as a reed Bent to the water, shivered scarce, Consented, and was dead. 20 And we, we placed the hair, And drew the head erect; And then an awful leisure was, Our faith to regulate.
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I LOST a world the other day. Has anybody found? You ’ll know it by the row of stars Around its forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; 5 Yet to my frugal eye Of more esteem than ducats. Oh, find it, sir, for me!
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