To care so much for one who gave but small
Answers to love, but gave them, after his kind,
Completely - wild with pleasure in the giving.
To grieve so much, when he, whom he had whistled
Out of his cramped, regretless, primitive world,
Harked back, before his time, to brutal dying.
To want so much that somehow (life gone by)
This brief encounter, by the world forgotten,
Should somewhere be remembered - and be valued -
And hold one spark through all the blaze of being
And, humbly, be. WHO WROTE THIS POEM?
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