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In Tenebris

 Wintertime nighs;
But my bereavement-pain
It cannot bring again:
Twice no one dies.
Flower-petals flee; But since it once hath been, No more that severing scene Can harrow me.
Birds faint in dread: I shall not lose old strength In the lone frost's black length: Strength long since fled! Leaves freeze to dun; But friends cannot turn cold This season as of old For him with none.
Tempests may scath; But love cannot make smart Again this year his heart Who no heart hath.
Black is night's cope; But death will not appal One, who past doubtings all, Waits in unhope.

Poem by Thomas Hardy
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things