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beautiful, tragical faces
up and down he goes
thou unrelenting past
i saw god. do you doubt it?
the body may confine
for these white arms about my neck
i went up and down the streets
softly weeping
and breaketh bread no more
who is the runner in the skies
death's nobility again
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
let a joy keep you
braided and woven

 



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