Friday, December 20, 2019
No Memorial Left
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), The Excursion I.469-474:
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Thus did he speak. "I see around me here
Things which you cannot see: we die, my Friend,
Nor we alone, but that which each man loved
And prized in his peculiar nook of earth
Dies with him, or is changed; and very soon
Even of the good is no memorial left."
