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friend poem

they may talk of love in a cottage
the agony of having too much power
sad are they who know not love
uplifting, as the wind blew
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
out of me unworthy and unknown
lo! 'tis a gala night
perhaps
it was the autumn of the year
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
as evening falls
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray

 



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