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| Death of a Giant | |
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I found a fallen giant today, What caused its death I cannot say. Old age? The wind? White ants, or rot? Whate'er the cause, it matters not. For centuries, maybe, it had grown, And not a sign of weakness shown. It had withstood the heat and frost, And, when the winter tempest tossed Its fiercest storm, the tree had stood Unbowed, as mighty giants should. But now its dead. Its broken back Forlornly lies across our track. Last afternoon it filled the sky, But now upon the track will lie Subject to gradual decay. Farewell, O giant of yesterday!
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Web of Poets | Philip Rush | Poetry | Bibliography | A Note for the Reader | Copyright | Web Sites | |
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