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like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
i stood by the open casement
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
not from the whole wide world
are you alive?
if i were very sure
you are clear
high walls and huge
in and of itself
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
i walk down the garden paths
why so sad my lovely one?
bring me soft song
just as my fingers on these keys

 



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