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sad love poem

often i think of the beautiful town
simplicity
at dawn, he said
gone are the three, those sisters rare
up and down he goes
all quiet along the potomac
with joy and wonder
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
very well, you liberals
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
death's nobility again
i fill this cup
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
royal feast was done

 



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