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sorry poem

we were not many
take my bracelets
she burst fierce wine
the sky
under the harvest moon
so lost
i stood by the open casement
i gazed upon the glorious sky
daughter, thou art come to die
come down at dawn from windless hills
i heard the wind all day
the long resounding marble corridors
out of the window a sea of green trees
afraid no more, i say

 



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