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never in all my life
made up of loveliness alone
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
so fallen
braided and woven
stuff of the moon
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
beside a stricken field
out of me unworthy and unknown
little park that i pass through
sing again the song you sung
babylon-where i go dreaming

 



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