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type of poetry

since, if you stood by my side today
the saddest of the year
splendid and terrible your love
my soul is a dark ploughed field
i am fevered
under the harvest moon
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
the body may confine
i despise my friends more than you
lived by the river-side
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
though i am little as all little things

 



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