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best friend poem

at dawn, he said
he'd even have his joke
the lightning flashed, and lifted
the body may confine
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
i can not tell you now
beautiful
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
days endeared to every muse
along a river-side
are you awake?
one sweetly solemn thought
my sorrow, when she's here with me
still thirteen years

 



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