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daughter poem

there is an hour of peaceful rest
i saw god. do you doubt it?
as evening falls
at dawn, he said
tell me not
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
beautiful, tragical faces
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
which keeps
long has the summer sunlight shone
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
a thousand silent years ago
dear wife
i go my way complacently

 



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