A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By stretch of limb or stir of lid, --
An independent one.
Was ever idleness like this?
Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
Nor once look up for noon?
'T was just this time last year I died.
I know I heard the corn,
When I was carried by the farms, --
It had the tassels on.
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