What seemed a litter was a family.
Nobody but Ann Freedom knew
That it was due
To being opposite a cemetery.
Married to illness, hired by want,
She watched the white stones on the hill
Blossom until
The burying-ground became a daily taunt.
But Ann took up the challenge. When a wild
Gust of disease thinned out the ancient stock,
Counting her flock,
She took to bed and had another child.
So, in a duel of matching wits, the wife
Used up three husbands dead and gone;
Still keeping on,
Pressed by the tombstones, answering death with life.
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