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autumn poetry

with joy and wonder
there is a city, builded by no hand
gloom
i have seen the proudest stars
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
but alas, just dreams
babylon-where i go dreaming
to some the fat gods
blossoms of babies
gaily through the fields we danced
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
out of me unworthy and unknown
all quiet along the potomac

 



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