| «There is a Reaper, whose name is Death
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| And, with his sickle keen
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| He reaps the bearded grain at a breath
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| And the flowers that grow between»
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| Wipe off the tears that run down your face
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| Frozen in time of your most painful dream
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| And transform them all into an ocean so the dream may sail away
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| «He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes
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| He kissed their drooping leaves;
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| It was for the Lord of Paradise
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| He bound them in his sheaves»
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| «They shall all bloom in fields of light
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| Transplanted by my care
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| And saints, upon their garments white
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| These sacred blossoms wear»
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| And once they have sailed away from you
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| Never look back so they shall not return!
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| Unless you’d want them to become
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| A pain that gives birth to another worthless tear
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| «O, not in cruelty, not in wrath
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| The Reaper came that day;
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| 'T was an angel visited the green earth
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| And took the flowers away»
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| It’s the last farewell… |