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and so it goes
when the hours of day are numbered
tell me not
when i was broke in london
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
i had over-prepared the event
one by one, like leaves from a tree
in the dark and peace of my final bed
thoughts through my head
the hypocritic days
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
have you heard
there was a time in former years
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room

 



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