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child poem

i am singing to you
the body may confine
in halls of sleep you wandered by
the ships are lying in the bay
i am the wind that wavers
the pale day drowses on the western steep
i fill this cup
awful truths these be
on and on
by the shore, by the sea
made up of loveliness alone
she was a beauty in the days
be not angry with me
the child who threw away leaf after leaf

 



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