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acrostic poem

up from the meadows rich with corn
just now
by the shore, by the sea
do the boys and girls still go
if the red slayer think he slays
i see all human wits
the sun is up
night was black and drear
why do you always stand there shivering
he came and took me by the hand
do not turn your head
i go my way complacently

 



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