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famous poem

i can not tell you now
to some the fat gods
i burn no incense
sweet and strong
do you hear the rain?
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
lived by the river-side
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
there is no flock, however watched and tended
though love repine, and reason chafe
a few more windy days
if i had known how narrow a prison is love

 



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