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how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
thou unrelenting past
darkest, strangest mystery
take my bracelets
see, from this counterfeit of him
there was a time in former years
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
desolate and lone
when freedom from her mountain height
be not angry with me
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
blossoms of babies

 



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