Page:The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson, Vailima Edition, Volume 8, 1922.djvu/466

NEW POEMS LXXVIII

RONDELS

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Nous n'irons plus au bois

We'll walk the woods no more,

But stay beside the fire,

To weep for old desire

And things that are no more.

The woods are spoiled and hoar,

The ways are full of mire;

We'll walk the woods no more,

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