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Acme.

Sleep, unforgotten sorrow, sleep awhile;
Make even awhile as tho' I might forget,
Let the wound staunch thy tedious fingers fret
Till once again I look abroad and smile
Warmed in the sunlight: let no tears defile
This hour's content, no conscious thorns beset
My path; O sorrow slumber, slumber yet
A moment, rouse not yet the smouldering pile.

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So shalt thou wake again with added strength
O unforgotten sorrow, stir again
The slackening fire, refine the lulling pain
To quickened torture and a subtler edge:
The wrung cord snaps at last; beneath the wedge
The toughest oak groans long but rends at length.