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 Absence by Walter Savage Landor 
						HERE, ever since you went abroad, If there be change no change I see:
 I only walk our wonted road,
 The road is only walk'd by me.
 
 Yes; I forgot; a change there is--
 Was it of that you bade me tell?
 I catch at times, at times I miss
 The sight, the tone, I know so well.
 
 Only two months since you stood here?
 Two shortest months? Then tell me why
 Voices are harsher than they were,
 And tears are longer ere they dry.
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