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1874–1950

THE DREAM

Arthur Stringer

I lay by your side last night. By you, in my dreams, I felt the damp of the grave. I was dead with you —

And my bones still ache with Death. For my hand went out and I touched your lips, And I found them fallen away, Wasted and lost!

Those lips once warm with life Were eaten and gone! And my soul screamed out in the dark At the intimate blackness of Death.

And then I arose from the dead And returned to the day; And my bones and my heart still ache with it all, And I hunger to hear the relieving babble of life,

The crowd in the hurrying street, The tumult and laughter and talk, To make me forget!

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THE DREAM · Arthur Stringer · Poetry Cove