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love poetry

could we but know
weak-winged is song
musing, between the sunset and the dark
though i am little as all little things
what do i owe to you
two rows of cabbages
here lies a most beautiful lady
when i go back to earth
where shall i find you
risen from the dead
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
the lightning flashed, and lifted
i stand in the cold gray weather

 



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