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lyric poetry

it was the autumn of the year
earth travails
i love my hour of wind and light
gingham dog and the calico cat
often is it not so?
weak-winged is song
see, from this counterfeit of him
perhaps
there is a country full of wine
i can not tell you now
if the red slayer think he slays
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me

 



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