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poetry for kid

when the wind works against us in the dark
dear wife
night was black and drear
i love my life, but not too well
if the red slayer think he slays
shades of night were falling fast
blossoms of babies
softly now the light of day
there are three ways in which men take
sun and wind and beat of sea
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
i bid them all farewell
i sometimes wonder if it's really true

 



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