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christmas poetry

along a river-side
stir
long has the summer sunlight shone
love me at last, or if you will not
at dawn, he said
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
very well, you liberals
little gate was reached at last
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
beneath the warrior's helm
under a spreading chestnut tree
in the sphere
i am a woman

 



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