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epic poetry

where shall i find you
but i cannot read you now
here falls no light
she was a beauty in the days
here lies a most beautiful lady
made up of loveliness alone
often is it not so?
the long resounding marble corridors
if the red slayer think he slays
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
i am fevered
a very remarkable history this is
all those treasures that lie

 



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