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A Round Dell 1339 after Arthur Compton Rickett A Roundel 1915

A week ago saw dark grave swallow
Beauty's soul, scarce twenty years.
Who could imagine heartbreak hollow
a week ago?

Love now is buried and, in tears,
especially for ourselves, we wallow.
What worth hold hopes compared with fears
with Fate's goad told?

Beneath the sods bier mourners follow,
find closed book, look closed, seal deaf ears
leaving a void in hearts that knew no dearth
A week ago!

(10 April 2005)

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