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epic poetry

to clothe the fiery thought
what do i owe to you
when freedom from her mountain height
arched the flood
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
night is dark, and the winter winds
i am in love with high far-seeing places
this is the ship of pearl
when the hours of day are numbered
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness

 



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