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Fires of Driftwood

by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

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Resurrection

I BURIED Joy; and early to the tomb
I came to weep—so sorrowful was I
Who had not dreamed that Joy, my Joy, could die.

I turned away, and by my side stood Joy
All glorified—ah, so ashamed was I
Who dared to dream that Joy, my Joy, could die!

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