Charlotte Mary Mew
A Quoi Bon Dire
Seventeen years ago you said
Something that sounded like Good-bye;
And everybody thinks that you are dead,
So I, as I grow stiff and cold
To this and that say Good-bye too;
And everybody sees that I am old
And one fine morning in a sunny lane
Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear
That nobody can love their way again
While over there
You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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(11 September 1885 – 2 March 1930)
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