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poems

he speaks not well
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
listen to the sounding sea
which i wish to remark
the meadow was creeping
i saw the first pear
the child who threw away leaf after leaf
let me be sad
the old west, the old time
i have had one fear in my life
sad are they who know not love
when night drifts along the streets of the city
i despise my friends more than you
shadows lay along broadway

 



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