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retirement poem

at midnight
bring me soft song
grieve not for the invisible
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
i wonder where you live
now that i have cooled to you
moonlight deep and tender
calm as that second summer
along the banks
a flying word from here and there
he came and took me by the hand
i cannot always feel his greatness
in mournful numbers
high-born race

 



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