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Poem by Rudyard Kipling London Stone WHEN you come to London Town, (Grieving-grieving! ) Bring your flowers and lay them down At the place of grieving. When you come to London Town, (Grieving-grieving!) Bow your head and mourn your own, With the others grieving. For those minutes, let it wake (Grieving-grieving!) All the empty-heart and ache That is not cured by grieving. For those minutes, tell no lie: (Grieving-grieving!) "Grave, this is thy victory; And the sting of death is grieving." Where's our help, from Earth or Heaven, (Grieving-grieving!) To comfort us for what we've given, And only gained the grieving? Heaven's too far and Earth too near, (Grieving-grieving!) But our neighbour's standing here, Grieving as we're grieving. What's his burden. every day? (Grieving-grieving!) Nothing man can count or weigh, But loss and love's own grieving. What is the tie betwixt us two (Grieving-grieving!) That must last our whole lives through? "As I suffer, so do you." That may ease the grieving. Rudyard Kipling Rudyard Kipling's other poems: 4781 Views |
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