Tragic Dialogue

" Does not the progressive wheel of years
Composed of baser metals
Obscure him from your eyes, whose tears
Have turned to willow petals?

" A hundred years! This iron bar
Has beaten you, and hindered? "
" Not so: on no extremest star
Had he and I been kindred.

" Ah no, both happily and alas!
A clover field, a river,
A hawthorn hedge, a pane of glass
Had parted us forever. "
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