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No. 11. Numerical
Edith, dear, do you not recall
How we stood long years ago
2, 1, the bridge, one cold, bleak all
Looking at the pool below?
How we watched the dry leaves sailing,
2, 3, 4, 8 its cold breast
While the breeze was softly wailing,
As it bore them to their rest?
How you wondered, were they happy
Now their life was 2, 8, 4 last?
How can they 6 and 7 happy
When their summer life is past?
Ah! the years have fallen round me
Since we stood beside the stream
And I have shown the hopes that found me
Then to earth were but a dream.
Oh, were you and I together
On that bridge, once 5, 2, 8, 4
I would give a different answer,
Than I did in days of yore
I would tell of summers fading—
How the sun must set at night
And of all the thick mists shading,
Sun and summer from the sight
I would tell of that deep yearning
Springing from the fading years
For a sun that has no turning—
For a life that has no tears
Yes! those little leaves that we recall,
Drifting on the streamlet’s breast
They were glad, that bleak and chill all—
They were glad for they had rest.
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