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wedding poetry

in an old chamber softly lit
when i was a boy at college
above them all, looking down
in new york harbor
soft as the bed in the earth
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
i have cast the world
two rows of cabbages
why are the things that have no death
let us plant
under dusky laurel leaf
we were not many
when you come tonight
the pale day drowses on the western steep

 



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