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A poem written some time back |
| Full fathom five thy father lies;/ Of his bones are coral made;/ Those are pearls that were his eyes:/ Nothing of him that doth fade/ But doth suffer a sea-change/ Into something rich and strange. What year has come So bewildered as these Which do symmetry Such injustice? Now will the sky fold And turn itself And make strange eyes Of the stars’ dark sides, And all for love? Such twistings never tortured Any other straight line made; Yet See I now Heaven’s consummate work And chaos called God’s careful plan; This man who fits me Like a glove, Goes not before Nor follows; The years will have me used to him And render old things Hollow |