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Hallo! My Fancy, Whither Wilt Thou Go?

by Elizabeth Stoddard

Swift as the tide in the river
The blood flows through my heart,
At the curious little fancy
That to-morrow we must part.

It seems to me all over,
The last words have been said;
And I have the curious fancy
To-morrow will find me dead!


Source:

Poems
Copyright 1895
Houghton, Mifflin And Company, Boston And New York