Body my housemy horse my houndwhat will I dowhen you are fallenWhere will I sleepHow will I rideWhat will I huntWhere can I gowithout my mountall eager and quickHow will I knowin thicket aheadis danger or treasurewhen Body my goodbright dog is deadHow will it beto lie in the skywithout roof or doorand wind for an eyeWith cloud for shifthow will I hide?-May Swenson
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