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break up poem

wheel me down by the meadow
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
bring me soft song
roses and gold
i think it just splendid
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
that year
come down at dawn from windless hills
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
if i were very sure
burly, dozing humble-bee
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
i shall see a star tonight
he speaks not well

 



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