Poems (Henley)/The spring, my dear

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XL
The spring, my dear,Is no longer spring.Does the blackbird singWhat he sang last year?Are the skies the oldImmemorial blue?Or am I, or are you,Grown cold?
Though life be change,It is hard to bearWhen the old sweet airSounds forced and strange.To be out of tune,Plain You and I . . .It were better to die,And soon!
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