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LA MORT EST TOUJOURS FIDÈLE!
Gone! . . .
  And steal the shadows grey
Where our window shone
Late with lights; too soon are they
Gone.

All that Heaven won
When it took you, love, away
  My heaven 's built upon:—

"Joy of life—Come back a day!"
  But the path leads on
  Through the night . . . Grief wakes to say
"Gone!"

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