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african american poetry

within my hand i hold
the mountains they are silent folk
pharaoh, king of egypt's land
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
the arches of the red bridge
shines the last age, the next with hope is seen
there is a country full of wine
the lightning flashed, and lifted
sun and wind and beat of sea
just as my fingers on these keys
do not grieve that it is over

 



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