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Walter de la Mare - At EaseWalter de la Mare - At Ease
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Most wounds can Time repair; But some are mortal these: For a broken heart there is no balm, No cure for a heart at ease At ease, but cold as stone, Though the intellect spin on, And the feat and practiced face may show Nought of the life that is gone; But smiles, as by habit taught; And sighs, as by custom led; And the soul within is safe from damnation, Since it is dead.
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