Inheritance
M
Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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DESOLATE strange sleep and wild
Came on me while yet a child;
I, before I tasted tears,
Knew the grief of all the years.
I, before I fronted pain,
Felt creation writhe and strain,
Sending ancient terrors through,
My small pulses, sweet and new.
I, before I learned how time
Robs all summers at their prime,
I, few seasons gone from birth,
Felt my body change to earth.
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