10 lines
295 B
Plaintext
10 lines
295 B
Plaintext
Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
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If the trees must, let them silently toss;
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No bird is singing now, and if there is,
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Be it my loss.
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It will be long ere the marshes resume,
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I will be long ere the earliest bird:
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So close the windows and not hear the wind,
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But see all wind-stirred.
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