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night was black and drear
sleep, gray brother of death
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
moonlight deep and tender
do the boys and girls still go
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
splendid and terrible your love
i am dying
as evening falls
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
i saw him once before
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
the meadow was creeping

 



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