To Celia
There was a strangeness on your lips, Lips that had been so sure; You still were mine but in eclipse, Beside me but obscure....
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20
November
Grieve not for the invisible, transported brow On which like leaves the dark hair grew, Nor for the lips of laughter that are now Laughing inaudibly in sun and dew, Nor for those limbs that, fallen low ...
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