As I draw up my breath
And silver fills my eyes
I kiss her still
For she will never rise
On my weak body
Lays her dying hand
Through those meadows of Heaven
Where we ran
Like a thief in the night
The wind blows so light
I wars with my tears
That won't dry for many years
"Love's golden arrow
At her should have fled
And not Death's ebon dart
To strike her dead"
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