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kid poem

o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
brother, i am fire
night was black and drear
in the cloud-gray mornings
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
to come so soon to this imagined dark
over the river, on the hill
wheel me down by the meadow
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
do not grieve that it is over
take my bracelets

 



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