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Sorrow

OW, on wing through the world for ever,

Here and there for awhile would

Rest, if rest might haply deliver            Sorrow.

One thought lies close in her heart gnawn

With pain, a weed in a dried-up river,

A rust-red share in an empty furrow.

Hearts that strain at her chain would

The link where yesterday frets to-morrow:

All things pass in the world, but never            Sorrow.

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Algernon Charles Swinburne

Algernon Charles Swinburne (5 April 1837 – 10 April 1909) was an English poet, playwright, novelist, and critic. He wrote several novels and col…

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