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On the death of William F. Buckley Jr.

“I never thought that heav’n would lose its blue
And sullen storm-clouds mask the gentle sky;
I never thought the rose’s velvet hue
Would pale and sicken, though we said good-by.
I never dreamed the lark would hush its note
As day succeeded ever-drearier day,
Nor knew the song that swelled the robin’s throat
Would fade to silence, when you went away.
I never knew the sun’s irradiant beams
Upon the brooding earth no more would shine,
Nor thought that only in my mocking dreams
Would happiness that once I knew be mine.
I never thought the slim moon, mournfully,
Would shroud her pallid self in murky night.
Dear heart, I never thought these things would be-
I never thought they would, and I was right.”

From “Absence”

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