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life poetry

there was never a sound beside the wood but one
and breaketh bread no more
are you awake?
they may talk of love in a cottage
long ago, in the young moonlight
i saw with open eyes
out of me unworthy and unknown
do you hear the rain?
they in the darkness gather and ask
weak-winged is song
beside a stricken field
rose and amber was the sunset on the river

 



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