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i miss you poem

in an old chamber softly lit
out of the sparkling sea
there is a city, builded by no hand
renew the vision of delight
here lies a most beautiful lady
storm
over the river, on the hill
before the solemn bronze saint
lady, your heart has turned to dust
your body's motion is like music
love me at last, or if you will not
of sun nor stars
he'd even have his joke

 



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