I looked up; all was as before;
Of that cloud-Tophet overhead,
No trace was left: I saw instead
The common round me, and the sky
Above, stretched drear and emptily
Of life: great poem of browning
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I looked up; all was as before; Of that cloud-Tophet overhead, No trace was left: I saw instead The common round me, and the sky Above, stretched drear and emptily Of life: great poem of browning