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sad love poem

in your arms was still delight
there is no flock, however watched and tended
with the meek, brown eyes
see, they return
he came and took me by the hand
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
lo! 'tis a gala night
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
here falls no light

 



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