DEPARTURE
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t’s little I care what path I take,And where it leads it’s little I care;But out of this house, lest my heart break,I must go, and off somewhere. It’s little I know what’s in my heart,What’s in my mind it’s little I know,But there’s that in me must up and start,And it’s little I care where my feet go. I wish I could walk for a day and a night,And find me at dawn in a desolate placeWith never the rut of a road in sight,Nor the roof of a house, nor the eyes of a face. I wish I could walk till my blood should spout,And drop me, never to stir again,On a shore that is wide, for the tide is out,And the weedy rocks are bare to the rain. But dump or dock, where the path I takeBrings up, it’s little enough I care;And it’s little I’d mind the fuss they’ll make,Huddled dead in a ditch somewhere. _“Is something the matter, dear,” she said,__“That you sit at your work so silently?”__“No, mother, no, ’twas a knot in my thread.__There goes the kettle, I’ll make the tea.”_
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