30 lines
662 B
Text
30 lines
662 B
Text
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
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I am not there, I do not sleep.
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I am a thousand winds that blow,
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I am the softly falling snow.
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I am the gentle show'rs of rain.
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(Lacrymosa)
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I am the fields of ripening grain.
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(dies illa)
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I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush
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(Lacrymosa)
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of faroff birds in circling flight.
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(dies illa)
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I am the starshine of the night.
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Lacrymosa dies illa,
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Lacrymosa dies illa.
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I am in ev'ry flower that blooms.
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I am in still and empty rooms.
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I am the child that yearns to sing;
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I am in each lovely thing.
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Do not stand at my grave and cry,
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I am not there.
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(Lacrymo-)
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I did not die.
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(-sa)
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Clare Harner / Howard Goodall
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