WON'T it be curious when I am dead;
Some one, unknown to me, here in my stead?
Curious surely for others to see
Trifles I made or marred outlasting me;
All my possessions - bracelets and rings,
Young and unaltered like immortal things
Young and unaltered, always the same
Changeless the lamp though we blow out the flame.
Won't It Be Curious
Alice Duer Miller
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Poem topics: unknown, lamp, flame, young, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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