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my sorrow, when she's here with me
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
wrap the earth in cloudy weather
under dusky laurel leaf
there is a city, builded by no hand
afraid no more, i say
at dawn, he said
grieve not for the invisible
the meadow was creeping
our pleasant moments fly
who loves the rain
the darkness rolls upward
when, full of warm and eager love
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces

 



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