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There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
November by Walter de la Mare
we have gotten the keys of our own new house
Last week, under the help of my younger brother and my dear mom, we finally have gotten the keys of our new house, i was so excited at that moment, after having been married for more than six years, i will have total right to decorate my house, which means i do not need to go my mother-in-law's or my mother's house next year for my vacation, and my little girl will have her own room. All the toys of her will have enough spaces, and I can buy lots of beatiful colthes for her,my husband and myself. It is a great news in this year for me.I will start my new life I think