< Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu
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POEMS FROM CAMP AND TRENCH
It held you hiddenly on the Somme
Tied from my heart at home:
O must it loosen now? I wish
You were bound with the old, old gyves.
Love! You love me—your eyes
Have looked through death at mine.
You have tempted a grave too much.
I let you—I repine.
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