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romantic love poem

perhaps
i make my shroud, but no one knows
i have seen the proudest stars
were it not for that singular smell
there are three ways in which men take
see the tentative
you say you love me
sadly speaking
for truth, for love
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
my mother taught me that every night
dear wife
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes

 



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