Not in the crisis of events Of compass`d hopes, or fears fulfill`d, Or acts of gravest consequence, Are life`s delight and depth reveal`d. The day of days was not the day; That went before, or was postponed; The night Death took our lamp away Was not the night on which we groan`d. I drew my bride, beneath the moon, Across my threshold; happy hour! But, ah, the walk that afternoon We saw the water-flags in flower!SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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