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when i was a boy at college
often is it not so?
in his guarded tent
give me
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
under the harvest moon
bring me soft song
i never knew the earth had so much gold
which i wish to remark
no prey am i of poor thoughts
high-born race
under a spreading chestnut tree
sleep, gray brother of death
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things

 



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