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happy birthday poem

i cannot always feel his greatness
doubtless i remember still
just now
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
under dusky laurel leaf
when i was broke in london
what spiteful chance steals unawares
good woman
she heard the children playing in the sun
her face is fair and smooth and fine
the hypocritic days
once this soft turf
up from the meadows rich with corn

 



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