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it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
above them all, looking down
you are clear
under the harvest moon
like eagles on up high
to clothe the fiery thought
did you ever see an alligator
you are my companion
i despise my friends more than you
this is the song of youth
it tells of good old times
shades of night were falling fast
musing, between the sunset and the dark
i saw him once before

 



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