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sad death poem

i know not where
there is an hour of peaceful rest
in the cloud-gray mornings
sun and wind and beat of sea
one sweetly solemn thought
very well, you liberals
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
those black eyes i once so praised
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
moonlight deep and tender
i have seen the proudest stars
i stand in the cold gray weather
as i lie roofed in, screened in
melancholy, blue it was

 



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