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autumn poetry

with lips blood red and heart of stone
glooms of the live-oaks
the darkness
the ancient songs
it was the autumn of the year
lived by the river-side
be in me as the eternal moods
daughter, thou art come to die
i despise my friends more than you
i loved a woman
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
come down at dawn from windless hills
the sun is up

 



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