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poem for pastors

darkest, strangest mystery
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
up to her chamber window
with the meek, brown eyes
come down at dawn from windless hills
i've won the race
and breaketh bread no more
star-dust and vaporous light
all quiet along the potomac
better than granite
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
that strange companion came on shuffling feet

 



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