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long has the summer sunlight shone
there are gains for all our losses
she heard the children playing in the sun
brother, i am fire
a mile behind
stand here by my side
you say you love me
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
do not turn your head
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
we break the glass whose sacred wine
though i am little as all little things
therefore i may not

 



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