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Silence, by D.H. Lawrence

SINCE I lost you I am silence-haunted,
  Sounds wave their little wings
A moment, then in weariness settle
  On the flood that soundless swings.
Whether the people in the street        5
  Like pattering ripples go by,
Or whether the theatre sighs and sighs
  With a loud, hoarse sigh:
Or the wind shakes a ravel of light
  Over the dead-black river,        10
Or night’s last echoing
  Makes the daybreak shiver:
I feel the silence waiting
  To take them all up again
In its vast completeness, enfolding        15
  The sound of men.

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