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a mist was driving down
and how could you dream of meeting
daughter, thou art come to die
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
i am in love with high far-seeing places
under dusky laurel leaf
did you ever hear of
do not grieve that it is over
i stand in the cold gray weather
two rows of cabbages
were it not for that singular smell
which i wish to remark
love has been sung a thousand ways

 



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