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modern poetry

hang no wreath
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
let us plant
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
three years ago today
this is the ship of pearl
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
here lies a most beautiful lady
had he and i but met
glass-blower of time
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
i have heard that a certain princess
day is done
do i like it

 



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