He only missed one day--whether some spell
of sleeping, or some illness, laid him low,
some brain disorder, he would never know--
but when he came to, everything seemed well.
A single revolution of the sphere,
during which life had gone on while he stayed
completely out of it--he, undismayed,
began again, perceiving nothing queer.
Twenty-four hours lost--he felt no change.
And so his life continued on from there
until its end; his mourners, unaware,
entombed and left him, sensing nothing strange.
But if he'd had that day to live again--
Christ! What a different life it would have been!
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