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" is no time for saying 'no'" Were thy last words to me, And yet my lips refused the kiss They might have given thee. How could I know That thou wouldst go To sleep so far from me?

They took thee to the Burning-Ghat, Oh, Lallji, my desire, And now a faint and lonely flame Uprises from the pyre. The thin grey smoke in spirals drifts Across the opal sky. Would that I were a wife of thine, And thus with thee could die! How could I know That thou wouldst go, Oh, Lallji, my desire? The lips I missed The flames have kissed Upon the Sandal pyre.

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