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child poem

why then, must we see?
those black eyes i once so praised
when freedom from her mountain height
simplicity
in their ragged regimentals
there is no escape by the river
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
if i should die, think only this of me
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
what do i owe to you
still her gray rocks tower above the sea

 



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