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teacher poem

see, they return
my true love from her pillow rose
let us plant
out of the deep and the dark
he came and took me by the hand
where shall i find you
i love my hour of wind and light
when i was a boy at college
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
and breaketh bread no more
therefore i may not
have you not heard
our pleasant moments fly
melancholy, blue it was

 



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