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sympathy poem

a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
death's nobility again
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
could we but know
no prey am i of poor thoughts
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
her face is fair and smooth and fine
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
calm as that second summer
brief on a flying night
i cannot always feel his greatness
give me hunger

 



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