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music i heard with you was more than music
there by the window in the old house
shades of night were falling fast
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
love has been sung a thousand ways
green afternoon serene and bright
up from the south at break of day
sing again the song you sung
see, they return
of sun nor stars
glooms of the live-oaks
no prey am i of poor thoughts

 



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