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like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
rose and amber was the sunset on the river
roses and gold
before the solemn bronze saint
risen from the dead
i had a dream and i awoke with it
these be
i have seen the proudest stars
in halls of sleep you wandered by
let us express our baser passions
in mournful numbers
love me at last, or if you will not
i am dying
often i think of the beautiful town

 



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