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Three Things

13
 ‘O cruel Death, give three things back,’

    Sang a bone upon the shore;

    ‘A child found all a child can lack,

    Whether of pleasure or of rest,

    Upon the abundance of my breast‘:

    A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.

    ‘Three dear things that women know,’

    Sang a bone upon the shore;

    ‘A man if I but held him so

    When my body was alive

    Found all the pleasure that life gave‘:

    A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.

    ‘The third thing that I think of yet,’

    Sang a bone upon the shore,

    ‘Is that morning when I met

    Face to face my rightful man

    And did after stretch and yawn‘:

    A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.

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