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thanksgiving poetry

the shadows of the ships
i cannot always feel his greatness
i had a dream and i awoke with it
i go my way complacently
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
i see all human wits
the sun is up
i know not where
over the river, on the hill
these hearts were woven of human joys and cares
i am singing to you
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
it was a tall young oysterman

 



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