That flesh is grass is now as clear as day,
To any but the merest purblind pup;
Death cuts it down, and then, to make her hay,
My Lady B—— comes and rakes it up.
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Thomas Hood · Romanticismo
inglés
That flesh is grass is now as clear as day,
To any but the merest purblind pup;
Death cuts it down, and then, to make her hay,
My Lady B—— comes and rakes it up.
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