[Written for the Sentinel]

DEATH SLAIN

Would you the truth decipher and discernAbout the lie of lies? Men call it "death"And speak thereof with hushed and fearful breath,With hearts that faint and fevered eyes that burn.

Men call one dead, and deem his life is o'erWhen in the dust they lay the unconscious head,And know not they themselves are blind and dead,And he they mourn still lives, though gone before.

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