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mother poem

there is a city, builded by no hand
music i heard with you was more than music
a few more windy days
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
give me
she was a beauty in the days
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
death's nobility again
there is an hour of peaceful rest
the darkness
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
the shadows of the ships


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