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The Preacher's Love

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I’M NOT DEAD

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep
I am a thousand wind that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circle flight.
I am the soft stars that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.


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