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religious poem

the shadows of the ships
above them all, looking down
when i returned at sunset
my soul is a dark ploughed field
as evening falls
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
when i was a boy at college
as a naked man i go
never in all my life
i cannot always feel his greatness

 



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