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romantic love poems

my true love from her pillow rose
no prey am i of poor thoughts
just now
wheel me down by the meadow
gone are the three, those sisters rare
there by the window in the old house
doubtless i remember still
what shall we do now
you are clear
our pleasant moments fly
i love my hour of wind and light
stay no more
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
he speaks not well

 



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