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Слушать(AI)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.
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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