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* * * Gif ye wol stonden hardie wight - Amiddès of the blackè night - Righte in the churchè porch, pardie, Ye wol behold a companie Approchen thee full dolourouse. For sooth to sain, from everich house, Be it in city or village, Wol come the phantom and image Of ilka gent and ilka carle, Whom coldè Deathè hath in parle And wol some day that very year, Touchen with foulè venìme spear And sadly do them all to die: Hem all shalt thou see verilie. And everichon shall by thee pass, All who must die that year, alas.... John Keats's other poems:
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