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life poetry

but i cannot read you now
gloom
long ago, in the young moonlight
made up of loveliness alone
there were three in the meadow by the brook
who is the runner in the skies
be not false
my soul is a dark ploughed field
tripping up, falling down
what was it the engines said
a life on the ocean wave
all quiet along the potomac
will you glimmer on the sea?
to clothe the fiery thought

 



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