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POEMS.
��LVIII. RETROSPECT.
"~P 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.
I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill ;
And then I wanted to get out, But something held my will.
I thought just how red apples wedged The stubble's joints between ;
And carts went stooping round the fields To take the pumpkins in.
I wondered which would miss me least, And when Thanksgiving came,
If father 'd multiply the plates To make an even sum.
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