Mutability

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We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon; How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver, Streaking the darkness radiantly!–yet soon Night closes round, and they are lost forever: Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings Give various response … Read More

Dickinson

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Because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me. The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. So these are your blog posts.  The three most recent will be displayed here on the home page, and you … Read More