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Love may sink by slow decay,
But by sudden wrench, believe not,
Hearts can thus be torn away;

And the undying thoughts which paineth
Is — that we no more may meet. —
These are words of deeper sorrow
Than the wail above the dead,
Both shall live — but every morrow
Wake us from a widowed bed.

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May 18, 2019 05:14AM
Lord Byron (Everyman's Poetry, #22)

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