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sad death poem

my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
night is dark, and the winter winds
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
they in the darkness gather and ask
doubtless i remember still
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
this is the ship of pearl
i have had one fear in my life
when a deed is done for freedom
lo! 'tis a gala night

 



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