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my mother twines me roses wet with dew
at midnight
there is a city, builded by no hand
the lightning flashed, and lifted
so fallen
on and on
which i wish to remark
it was a tall young oysterman
she must go back, she said
in may
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
i have seen the proudest stars
lady, your heart has turned to dust

 



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