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sad poem

it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
i gazed upon the glorious sky
along the banks
give me hunger
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
be in me as the eternal moods
listen to the sounding sea
lo! 'tis a gala night
the earth keeps some vibration going
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
see the tentative
beside a stricken field

 



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