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famous poetry

somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
when i returned at sunset
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
to clothe the fiery thought
high walls and huge
in the sphere
i wonder where you live
when i go back to earth
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
here lies a most beautiful lady

 



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