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broken heart poem

long ago, in the young moonlight
they ask me where i've been
pushing out, struggling vainly
out of the sparkling sea
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
what do i owe to you
all my love for my sweet
looking beyond
lo! 'tis a gala night
come down at dawn from windless hills
i walk down the garden paths
stuff of the moon
lived by the river-side
noises that strive to tear

 



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