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sad poem

one sweetly solemn thought
soft as the bed in the earth
through the broad earth's aching breast
if i were very sure
all those treasures that lie
have you seen walking through the village
sweet splendor
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
beside a stricken field
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
i loathed you
tell me not
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb

 



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