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1865–1904

Song of Khan Zada

Violet Nicolson

As one may sip a Stranger's Bowl You gave yourself but not your soul. I wonder, now that time has passed, Where you will come to rest at last.

You gave your beauty for an hour, I held it gently as a flower. You wished to leave me, told me so,— I kissed your feet and let you go.

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Song of Khan Zada · Violet Nicolson · Poetry Cove