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famous poem

there was never a sound beside the wood but one
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
into the silent land
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
come down at dawn from windless hills
eighty years have passed, and more
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
though love repine, and reason chafe
dark-eyed
under the harvest moon
i loved a woman
i made a vow once, one only
i've won the race

 



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