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love poem

lo! 'tis a gala night
love me at last, or if you will not
all within and all without me
like eagles on up high
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
where shall i find you
she might have known it in the earlier spring
pushing out, struggling vainly
doubtless i remember still
sun stepped down from his golden throne
the stars fell from heaven

 



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