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The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning
img img The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning img Chapter 424 No.424
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Chapter 424 No.424

When the sun has dyed the oriel, I depart, with no last gazes,

No weak moanings (one word only, left in writing for her hands),

Out of reach of all derision, and some unavailing praises,

To make front against this anguish in the far and foreign lands.

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