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Death Will Come. Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set; but all, Though hast all seasons for thine own, O Death! Thou are where friend meets friend, Beneath the shadow of the elm, to rest; Thou are where foe meets foe, and trumpets?rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest. Roberta