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thank you poem

when i returned at sunset
as it
through the broad earth's aching breast
into the silent land
now for a brisk and cheerful fight
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
there is a city, builded by no hand
this is the arsenal
some of the hurts you have cured
she must go back, she said
i love my hour of wind and light
and breaketh bread no more
in an old chamber softly lit

 



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