Dirge by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Boys and girls that held her dear, Do your weeping now; All you loved of her lies here.
Brought to earth the arrogant brow, And the withering tongue Chastened; do your weeping now.
Sing whatever songs are sung, Wind whatever wreath, For a playmate perished young,
For a spirit spent in death. Boys and girls that held her dear, All you loved of her lies here.
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