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memorial poem

high walls and huge
i never knew the earth had so much gold
night was black and drear
darkest, strangest mystery
a thousand silent years ago
the air is full of dawn and spring
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
the pale day drowses on the western steep
and still they walked on
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
some one complained to the master
green afternoon serene and bright


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