Absence by Walter Savage Landor
HERE, ever since you went abroad, If there be change no change I see: I only walk our wonted road, The road is only walk'd by me.
Yes; I forgot; a change there is-- Was it of that you bade me tell? I catch at times, at times I miss The sight, the tone, I know so well.
Only two months since you stood here? Two shortest months? Then tell me why Voices are harsher than they were, And tears are longer ere they dry.
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