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could we but know
though i am little as all little things
from floor to ceiling
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
gloom
in new york harbor
i go my way complacently
very well, you liberals
beneath the warrior's helm
afraid no more, i say
when night drifts along the streets of the city
shades of night were falling fast
the sky
i do not pray for peace

 



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