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Florence on a Certain Night, and Other Poems

THE LILIES BLOOM

Reading edition

The lilies bloom above her head

All unaware that she is dead.

The small brown birds, with folded wing,

Do not one whit less blithely sing.

The sun goes on his usual round,

Seeking die quiet she has found.

And God looks down on everything,

And that is why the small birds sing.

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