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Sad Thoughts Elite

        Now blows the wind of change
          Through ashen summer boughs;
           Its breaths to cool the night
        Where round the grassy range
          The sleepy cows do browse.
        The lantern-yellow tops
          Are snuffed and disappear;
           The grey paths fade away
        And darkly merging copse
          Sheds me its lonely tear.
        Now time, stand still, retreat,
          Add to this map my dreams
           Of fair and lonely pasts
        That overflow their seams
          Of my sad thoughts elite.
        In this the still grass grows
          And insects nought will fear,
           To burgeon in this night
        Which by dull daylight drowse
          When wise men's senses clear.
        The busy night-lit street
          Has no more friends for me;
           Its gutters deep and wide,
        The people that I meet
          Seem stale and bored to me.


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