from Song in the Manner of Housman
By Ezra Pound
O woe, woe,
People are born and die,
We also shall be dead pretty soon
Therefore let us act as if we were dead already.
The bird sits on the hawthorn tree
But he dies also, presently.
Some lads get hung, and some get shot.
Woeful is this human lot.
Woe! woe, etcetera...
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