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christian poetry

she limps with halting painful pace
though i am little as all little things
let us pity those who are better off than we are
therefore i may not
when freedom from her mountain height
as a naked man i go
why are the things that have no death
i reside at table mountain
why so sad my lovely one?
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
you are clear
glooms of the live-oaks
see the tentative

 



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