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elements of poetry

as evening falls
there is a city, builded by no hand
it was many and many a year ago
beneath my window in a city street
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
i gazed upon the glorious sky
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
she was a beauty in the days
i think it just splendid
so lost
i have to say good-night

 



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