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friend poetry

high-born race
to clothe the fiery thought
i said, i have shut my heart
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
as a naked man i go
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
she said
babylon-where i go dreaming
i have to say good-night
sun stepped down from his golden throne
this is the ship of pearl
above them all, looking down
melancholy days have come
there were three in the meadow by the brook

 



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