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some one complained to the master
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
i had a dream and i awoke with it
the saddest of the year
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
death's nobility again
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
winged shadows sweeping by
we lay
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
to some the fat gods
i went up and down the streets

 



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