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poems

i love my hour of wind and light
renew the vision of delight
glooms of the live-oaks
shades of night were falling fast
the saddest of the year
skies they were ashen and sober
i have heard that a certain princess
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
the sky
when the veil from the eyes is lifted

 



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