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I meant to find Her when I came —

Death — had the same design —

But the Success — was His — it seems —

And the Surrender – Mine —

I meant to tell Her how I longed

For just this single time —

But Death had told Her so the first —

And she had past, with Him —

To wander — now — is my Repose —

To rest – To rest would be

A privilege of Hurricane

To Memory — and Me.

â—„