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prose poetry

have you heard
sweet with fern and rose
for truth, for love
uplifting, as the wind blew
do the boys and girls still go
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
thou unrelenting past
gaily through the fields we danced
no prey am i of poor thoughts
with lips blood red and heart of stone
there is a country full of wine
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
i went up and down the streets

 



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