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teen poem

under a spreading chestnut tree
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
they may talk of love in a cottage
up from the south at break of day
there were three in the meadow by the brook
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
we who stood
let us plant
when freedom from her mountain height

 



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