From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain. (Percy Bysshe Shelley)

From the contagion of the world's slow stain He is secure, and now can never mourn A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

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cold contagion grey head heart now slow vain

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