Poem: “How is it we can smile…”

How is it we can smile and know
That somewhere children cry?
How can we live and know
That everyone we ever meet will die?
In Spring the flowers grow
When Autumn comes they die
The Winter passes, lo!
For I again the flowers spy
The same as yesteryear’s!
Which one is the soul:
The flowers that die
Or the power that ever reappears?

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