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birthday poem

did you ever see an alligator
all quiet along the potomac
high-born race
stuff of the moon
i love to steal awhile away
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
before the solemn bronze saint
what spiteful chance steals unawares
out of the deep and the dark
sad are they who know not love
there by the window in the old house
in halls of sleep you wandered by
gone are the three, those sisters rare

 



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