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often is it not so?
when freedom from her mountain height
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
will you glimmer on the sea?
tripping up, falling down
look out upon the stars, my love
night is dark, and the winter winds
to clothe the fiery thought
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
why so sad my lovely one?

 



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