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romantic poem

one by one, like leaves from a tree
god
once this soft turf
gaily through the fields we danced
the snow whispers about me
could we but know
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
i've won the race
and with the humming bird
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
sleep sweetly in your humble graves
the poets tell
the long resounding marble corridors
for truth, for love

 



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