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rocked in the cradle of the deep
long has the summer sunlight shone
sweet with fern and rose
will you glimmer on the sea?
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
i have seen the proudest stars
often i think of the beautiful town
darkest, strangest mystery
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
birds against the april wind
i burn no incense
sleep, gray brother of death
star-dust and vaporous light

 



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