Still on my deathbed…
Epitaph
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
Heap not on this mound
Roses that she loved so well:
Why bewilder her with roses,
That she cannot see or smell?
She is happy where she lies
With the dust upon her eyes.
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends
It gives a lovely light.
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