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Show For One Who Died He sleeps somewhere beneath the sod of France, I think not even the angels know just where. And there Is qnly candlelight of stars And sobbing winds to care. I cannot deck his grave with wreaths nf love. Nor liitli: songs, nor (lowers of sunset S 1 1 ICS, Nor tell above him any beads of prayer, Who know not where he lies! O May, smother his bed In flowers for me, Sing him a requiem when stars are dim, And tell him all your beauty and your love 1b my heart's gift to hixnl |