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romantic love poems

why do you always stand there shivering
do you hear the rain?
a very remarkable history this is
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
braided and woven
up to her chamber window
i had a dream and i awoke with it
i've won the race
i see all human wits
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
i know what you're going to say
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
in their ragged regimentals

 



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