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Come not,
when I am dead,
To drop thy foolish tears upon my
grave,
To trample round my fallen head,
And vex
the unhappy dust thou wouldst not save.
There let the
wind sweep and the plover cry;
But thou, go by.
Child, if it were thine error or thy crime
I care no
longer, being all unblest:
Wed whom thou wilt, but I
am sick of Time,
And I desire to rest.
Pass on,
weak heart, and leave me where I lie:
Go by, go by.
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