No marshalled wheat mowed down to fall
You were my ending to sunshine and fair skies
My summer rain and this is all
There is no lie in loneliness
It expresses itself as plainly as the air
I breathed you in and you made me bloom
And then suddenly, without warning you were not there.
My summer greys and pales in Junes,
Where once was song, I cannot sing.
All is autumn leaves' falling death
I have no breath for Spring.
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