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out of me unworthy and unknown
we who stood
i can not tell you now
i am singing to you
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
desolate and lone
i have heard them in the night
i fill this cup
you are beautiful and faded
love me at last, or if you will not
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
a look is but a ray

 



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