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i miss you poem

my true love from her pillow rose
i have heard them in the night
brother, i am fire
under a spreading chestnut tree
my mother taught me that every night
why then, must we see?
i went up and down the streets
i go my way complacently
the old west, the old time
she might have known it in the earlier spring
in their ragged regimentals
have you heard

 



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