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the rain was over, and the brilliant air
softly now the light of day
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
gaily through the fields we danced
the old west, the old time
the meadow was creeping
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
roses and gold
do you remember
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
their beautiful hair
some one complained to the master
are you alive?

 



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