Spring and Fall
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- Márgarét, are you gríeving
- Over Goldengrove unleaving?
- Leáves, líke the things of man, you
- With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
- Áh! ás the heart grows older
- It will come to such sights colder
- By and by, nor spare a sigh
- Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
- And yet you wíll weep and know why.
- Now no matter, child, the name:
- Sórrow's spríngs áre the same.
- Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
- What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
- It is the blight man was born for,
- It is Margaret you mourn for.
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