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poem

there was a time in former years
she limps with halting painful pace
up and down he goes
you are beautiful and faded
which i wish to remark
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
had he and i but met
my true love from her pillow rose
dark-eyed
i fill this cup
a bird sang
i go my way complacently
up from the meadows rich with corn

 



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