Page:The Single Hound; poems of a lifetime.djvu/70

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THE SINGLE HOUND.

XXXVI.


SHE died at play,
Gambolled away
Her lease of spotted hours,
Then sank as gaily as a Turk
Upon a couch of flowers.
Her ghost strolled softly o'er the hill
Yesterday and today,
Her vestments as the silver fleece,
Her countenance as spray.