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acrostic poem

afraid no more, i say
i am dying
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
i am in love with high far-seeing places
see i give myself to you
do the boys and girls still go
there was a time in former years
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
and my name is truthful
love me at last, or if you will not
if i should die, think only this of me
birds against the april wind

 



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