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sad poetry

we were not many
the darkness
when freedom from her mountain height
when, full of warm and eager love
o fair and stately maid, whose eyes
death's nobility again
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
over the river, on the hill
with her hair flaying wildly
sad are they who know not love
not from the whole wide world
she said
here falls no light

 



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