Poem – Twilight 

So Mary died last night! To-day
The news has travelled here.

And Robert died at Michaelmas,

And Walter died last year.
I went at sunset up the lane,

I lingered by the stile;

I saw the dusky fields that stretched

Before me many a mile.
I leaned against the stile, and thought

Of her whose soul had fled–

I knew that years on years must pass

Or e’er I should be dead. 

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