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religious poem

splendid and terrible your love
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
be in me as the eternal moods
a flying word from here and there
i gazed upon the glorious sky
dark-eyed
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
storm
we were not many
bring me soft song
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
see the tentative
have we no shame?
i love the old melodious lays

 



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