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marriage poem

love me at last, or if you will not
it was many and many a year ago
did you ever hear of
in halls of sleep you wandered by
with the sunset
old wine to drink
when a deed is done for freedom
there is no flock, however watched and tended
tell me less or tell me more
beautiful, tragical faces
do not turn your head
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
the earth keeps some vibration going
like eagles on up high

 



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