Do not stand at my grave
and weep I am not there, I do not sleep; I am a thousand winds that
blow, I am the diamond glints of snow; I am the sunlight 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 circled flight, I
am the soft stars that shine at night; Do not stand at my grave and cry, I
am not there I did not die.
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