There Is, Alas, A Chill
There is, alas! a chill, a gloom,
About my solitary room
That will not let one flowret bloom
Even for you:
The withering leaves appear to say,
‘Shine on, shine on, O lovely May!
But we meanwhile must drop away.’
Light! life! adieu.
About my solitary room
That will not let one flowret bloom
Even for you:
The withering leaves appear to say,
‘Shine on, shine on, O lovely May!
But we meanwhile must drop away.’
Light! life! adieu.
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