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XXVII.

The sigh that heaves the grasses
   Whence thou wilt never rise
Is of the air that passes
   And knows not if it sights.

The diamond tears adorning
   Thy low mound on the lea,
Those are the tears of morning,
   That weeps, but not for thee.

A.E. Housman, Last Poems
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Public domain: first published in 1922.

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