Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind.
Ode: Intimations of Immortality, William Wordsworth
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She herself had had a deep sense of poetry; she remembered going to sleep with Shelley under her pillow.
The Last September, Elizabeth Bowen
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I want what world there is behind your eyes
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