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Rh

I had one only wish, to be   Left to my grief's monotony. There is a calm which is not peace, Like that when ocean's tempests cease, When worn out with the storm, the sea Sleeps in her dark tranquillity, As dreading that the lightest stir Would bring again the winds on her. I felt as if I could not brook A sound, a breath, a voice, a look, As I fear'd they would bring again Madness upon my heart and brain. It was a haunting curse to me, The simoom of insanity. The links of life's enchanted chain, Its hope, its pleasure, fear or pain,