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A Dirge - Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley (Percy Bysshe Shelley)

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Rough wind, that moanest loud Grief too sad for song; Wild wind, when sullen cloud Knells all the night long; Sad storm whose tears are vain, Bare woods, whose branches strain, Deep caves and dreary main,-- Wail, for the world’s wrong! Percy Bysshe Shelley

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