Chapter XII
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Bespangled—and ye velvet valleys,
Green-bosomed, where the south winds dallies—
He loved you! And ye birds that sing—
Do ye not miss him? Winds that wander,
How can ye pass him, lying yonder,
Now sigh his dirge with folded wing?
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Joel Chandler Harris' life of Henry W. Grady including his writings and speechesChapter XII
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