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lost love poem

little park that i pass through
doubtless i remember still
be not false
all within and all without me
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
there was a time in former years
some of the hurts you have cured
i burn no incense
the darkness rolls upward
and breaketh bread no more
the hypocritic days
often i think of the beautiful town
i have heard them in the night


 



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