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thank you poem

tell me
i said, i have shut my heart
why are the things that have no death
quietly, with reverance, in awe
pushing out, struggling vainly
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
a thousand silent years ago
out of the window a sea of green trees
rising moon has hid the stars
the poets tell
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
i stood

 



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