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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
My name is Antonio and I'm Italian. I'm 27 years old and I graduated to computer science. I registered in this forum because for my job to speak English is very important.. Now I need and I want to learn English for me and my career.
I'm don't know how work this forum, but I need to write and speaks with your, To follow conversations and To take part discussions and sessions to study...