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footprint poem

i said, i have shut my heart
they threw a stone, you threw a stone
this is the song of youth
happiness
a look is but a ray
desolate and lone
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
daughter, thou art come to die
he speaks not well
a storm is riding on the tide
i can not tell you now
which i wish to remark
when i was broke in london

 



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