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life poetry

be in me as the eternal moods
as i lie roofed in, screened in
a few more windy days
have you seen walking through the village
gone before us
out of me unworthy and unknown
from song and dream for ever gone
in an old chamber softly lit
there is a country full of wine
hang no wreath
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
in new york harbor
see, from this counterfeit of him

 



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