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graduation poem

little gate was reached at last
the body may confine
weak-winged is song
the darkness rolls upward
lived by the river-side
she knows a cheap release
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
beautiful, tragical faces
like eagles on up high
i said, i have shut my heart
i love the old melodious lays
as it
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
days endeared to every muse

 



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