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poems

do i like it
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i stood by the open casement
she must go back, she said
it was many and many a year ago
i have cast the world
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
to clothe the fiery thought
i saw the clouds among the hills
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
be not false
gone are the three, those sisters rare
all quiet along the potomac

 



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