To The Dead in the Graveyard Underneath My Window by CRAPSEY, Adelaide

Her death was tragic. Full of the desire of life she yet was forced to go, leaving her work all unfinished. Her last year was spent in exile at
Saranac Lake. From her window she looked down on the graveyard — “Trudeau’s Garden,” she called it, with grim-gay irony. from the forward to Verse, by Claude Bragdon – Summary by from the forward to Verse,by Claude Bragdon
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