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son poem

up to her chamber window
just now
the sky
since, if you stood by my side today
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
we break the glass whose sacred wine
all those treasures that lie
arched the flood
good woman
here lies a most beautiful lady
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
softly now the light of day
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise

 



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