to be! And again I say,—
When his old scythe circles high,
I'll laugh—of course, in the kindest way,—
As I say "Good-by!—Good-by!"
"OUT OF REACH?"
You think them "out of reach," your dead?
Nay, by my own dead, I deny
to be! And again I say,—
When his old scythe circles high,
I'll laugh—of course, in the kindest way,—
As I say "Good-by!—Good-by!"
You think them "out of reach," your dead?
Nay, by my own dead, I deny