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sympathy poem

there is no flock, however watched and tended
winged shadows sweeping by
in his guarded tent
i went up and down the streets
not from the whole wide world
i never knew the earth had so much gold
with lips blood red and heart of stone
they in the darkness gather and ask
stern cold man
take my bracelets
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
i have to say good-night

 



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