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christmas poetry

we were not many
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
shades of night were falling fast
now that i have cooled to you
the dawn was apple-green
if i should die, think only this of me
for these white arms about my neck
that year
as it
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
this is the song of youth
shadows lay along broadway
tell me not

 



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