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There is a shadow on the sunny wall,
Dark and forbidding, like a bode of ill;
Go, drive it thence. Alas, such shadows fall
From real things, nor may be moved at will.

 

There is a shadow on my heart today,
A cloudy grief condensing to a tear:
Alas, I cannot drive its gloom away--
Some sin or sorrow casts the shapeless fear.