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sad death poem

with joy and wonder
be in me as the eternal moods
here lies a most beautiful lady
when a deed is done for freedom
it was the autumn of the year
babylon-where i go dreaming
with her hair flaying wildly
when, full of warm and eager love
though i am little as all little things
you are beautiful and faded
thou unrelenting past
i burn no incense
long ago, in the young moonlight

 



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