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lost love poem

raça elevado-carregada
no porto de york novo
última meia-noite
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
sobre o rio, no monte
diz de épocas velhas boas
através do peito aching da terra larga
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
e nse
caído assim
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vôo do falcão
abaixo do helm do guerreiro

 



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