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type of poetry

there is an hour of peaceful rest
so fallen
gone are the three, those sisters rare
awful truths these be
the sky
is there anybody there
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
for these white arms about my neck
the earth keeps some vibration going
eighty years have passed, and more
do the boys and girls still go
a storm is riding on the tide
give me
a very remarkable history this is

 



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