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pushing out, struggling vainly
i see all human wits
gaily through the fields we danced
i walk down the garden paths
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
the ships are lying in the bay
though i am little as all little things
let us plant
are you alive?
to some the fat gods
they may talk of love in a cottage
i shake my hair in the wind of morning

 



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