Last night I walked down to the waters edge,My toes gripped to the ledge,And though it's dark I saw right to the ground.I saw the moon,I saw the dark within,I heard the rushes sing,And whispered to them softly so they'd hear.When I go,That's the first,And the second's,When I'm in my grave,And the third's,When the world no longer,Speaks my name.
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the third death, isobel anderson