Over there in that country graveyard
Where few wild, wild flowers are lain
Over there they lay over my little sister
Over there lay my small, sad sister ...
Within the pale blue haze above,
Some pitchy shreds took size and form,
And, like a madman's wrath or love,
From nothing rose a sudden storm.
The blossom'd limes, which seem'd to exhale
Her breath, were swept with one strong sweep,
And up the dusty road the hail
Came like a flock of hasty sheep,
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