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gothic poetry

gingham dog and the calico cat
out of the sparkling sea
there is an hour of peaceful rest
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
splendid and terrible your love
the lightning flashed, and lifted
i heard the wind all day
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
i am fevered
up from the meadows rich with corn
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
a mist was driving down
why so sad my lovely one?

 



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