| I HAVE a rendezvous with Death |
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| At some disputed barricade, |
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| When Spring comes back with rustling shade |
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| And apple-blossoms fill the air— |
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| I have a rendezvous with Death |
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| When Spring brings back blue days and fair. |
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| It may be he shall take my hand |
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| And lead me into his dark land |
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| And close my eyes and quench my breath— |
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| It may be I shall pass him still. |
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| I have a rendezvous with Death |
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| On some scarred slope of battered hill, |
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| When Spring comes round again this year |
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| And the first meadow-flowers appear. |
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| God knows 'twere better to be deep |
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| Pillowed in silk and scented down, |
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| Where love throbs out in blissful sleep, |
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| Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, |
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| Where hushed awakenings are dear... |
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| But I've a rendezvous with Death |
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| At midnight in some flaming town, |
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| When Spring trips north again this year, |
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| And I to my pledged word am true, |
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I shall not fail that rendezvous.
-Alan Seeger
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