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Bereaved of all, I went abroad
No less bereaved was I
Upon a New Peninsula
The Grave preceded me

Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself
And when I sought my Bed
The Grave it was reposed upon
The Pillow for my Head

I waked to find it first awake
I rose — It followed me
I tried to drop it in the Crowd
To lose it in the Sea

In Cups of artificial Drowse
To steep its shape away
The Grave — was finished — but the Spade
Remained in Memory