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fall poem

the endless, foolish merriment of stars
i have to say good-night
let me be sad
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
desolate and lone
beautiful
i am old and blind
within my hand i hold
i have heard them in the night
doubtless i remember still
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
lo! 'tis a gala night
look out upon the stars, my love
and breaketh bread no more

 



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