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All English Sonnets

When I think, that after my demise,
The world will keep on running as before,
No change will occur in its shape or size,
No alteration in single chore.

And universe in usual ptomaine,
Will continue to churn along its course,
I cease my wailing pitiful and hoarse,
And humbly pay my homage to the Time.

Then limited barriers of perception break,
And to me, are unveiled, careless treasures,
Of life, beyond this life. Endless lake,
stretches, full of lazy, languid pleasures.

And ceaseless naked joys, unalloyed,
Which I have never noticed or enjoyed.

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