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poem for pastors

therefore i may not
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
in may
star-dust and vaporous light
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
i go my way complacently
i cannot always feel his greatness
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
she said

 



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