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happy birthday poem

in his guarded tent
shadows lay along broadway
better than granite
white foam flower, red flame flower
the ships are lying in the bay
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
i saw the first pear
i never knew the earth had so much gold
melancholy days have come
why do you always stand there shivering
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be

 



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