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famous poem

and with the humming bird
little gate was reached at last
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
gone are the three, those sisters rare
do not turn your head
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
see i give myself to you
wheel me down by the meadow
old wine to drink
i said, i have shut my heart
over the river they beckon to me

 



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