When suddenly a candle is blown out, Inpenetrable darkness frightens me,
Until, At length, some pattern I see
Of shapes about me that dispel my doubts.

Then, picking out fimiliar forms the place, Takes on a softened loveliness
and grace.

Gradually, the sceans that reappear,
Are clothed in beauty as at a nearing dawn-

Just so, the loss of someone very dear
Transfigures common thing I look upon.
 
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