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The Living Ones Make Merry while The Dead Sleep
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Poe'ten'ry [poems of ten lines]
The living ones make merry,
While the dead sleep,
In the deep,
Of the earth serenely.
Will they awaken,
Because of the noise made above,
By the ones whom once they did love?
Will they ever be shaken?
Perhaps or perhaps not,
It seems to be beyond my thought!
