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1886–1950

In Exile

John Gould Fletcher

My heart is mournful as thunder moving Through distant hills Late on a long still night of autumn. My heart is broken and mournful

As rain heard beating Far off in the distance While earth is parched more near. On my heart is the black badge of exile;

I droop over it, I accept its shame.

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In Exile · John Gould Fletcher · Poetry Cove