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poem for pastors

these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
better than granite
the hypocritic days
city that is not a city
musing, between the sunset and the dark
lo! 'tis a gala night
in his guarded tent
days endeared to every muse
i saw the clouds among the hills
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
i know what you're going to say

 



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