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through the broad earth's aching breast
let me move slowly through the street
the old west, the old time
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
i know what you're going to say
long ago, in the young moonlight
the swan existing
they may talk of love in a cottage
do you hear the rain?
last midnight
were it not for that singular smell
sweet and strong
desolate and lone

 



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