<h3 id="Laureate">Laureate</h3>
<p>DEATH met a little child who cried<br/>
For a bright star which earth denied,<br/>
And Death, so sympathetic, kissed it,<br/>
Saying: “With me<br/>
All bright things be!”—<br/>
And only the child’s mother missed it.</p>
<p>Death met a maiden on the brae,<br/>
Her eyes held dreams life would betray,<br/>
And gallant Death was greatly taken—<br/>
“Leave,” whispered he,<br/>
“Your dream with me<br/>
And I will see you never waken.”</p>
<p>Death met an old man in a lane;<br/>
So gnarled was he and full of pain<br/>
That kindly Death was struck with pity—<br/>
“Come you with me,<br/>
Old man,” said he,<br/>
“I’ll set you down in a fair city.”</p>
<p>So, kingly Death along the way<br/>
Scatters rare gifts and asks no pay—<br/>
Yet who to Death will write a sonnet?<br/>
If any dare,<br/>
Let him take care<br/>
No foolish tear be spilled upon it!</p>
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