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1837–1909

II.

Algernon Charles Swinburne

Friend of many a season fled, What may sorrow send Toward thee now from lips that said ‘ Friend’?

Sighs and songs to blend Praise with pain uncomforted Though the praise ascend? Darkness hides no dearer head:

Why should darkness end Day so soon, O dear and dead Friend?

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II. · Algernon Charles Swinburne · Poetry Cove