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elements of poetry

were it not for that singular smell
when a deed is done for freedom
a thousand silent years ago
i bid them all farewell
listen to the sounding sea
all within and all without me
a few more windy days
to some the fat gods
the meadow was creeping
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
the agony of having too much power
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies

 



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