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christian poem

with the meek, brown eyes
little gate was reached at last
like eagles on up high
do the boys and girls still go
in your arms was still delight
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
there by the window in the old house
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
the air is full of dawn and spring
quietly, with reverance, in awe
up from the south at break of day

 



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