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you are he said beautiful that is not love she said rightly
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they clapped when they took off for home despite the dead dream they saw a free future
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she has your high clear polished forehead but no my sister has his dimple the cleft in his chin
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and she's embarrassed you're embarrassed living in her blood to think you ever acted like that
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circles the pyramid of cestius crosses a graveyard and submerges again like the fin of a shark
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on the men's hats and now the snow grows heavier falls on their stooping shoulders
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spruce inadequate and alien i stood at the side of the road it was the only life i had
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after all you know there are days when even thirst runs dry and prayer's lips harden
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toddling through shadows sturdy wobbling fragile pregnant as summer is
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i think he wanted to speak but the dream had no sound i think i must have loved him
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come i'll instruct thee know the vestal fire is not by marriage quenched but flames the higher
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no one to witness and adjust no one to drive the car
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without thy light what light remains in me thou art my life my way my light's in thee i live i move and by thy beams i see
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my light thou art-without thy glorious sight my eyes are darken'd with eternal night my love thou art my way my life my light
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thou art my way i wander if thou fly thou art my light if hid how blind am i thou art my life if thou withdraw'st i die
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if i have lost my path dear lover say shall i still wander in a doubtful way love shall a lamb of israel's sheepfold stray
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my path is lost my wandering steps do stray i cannot go nor can i safely stay whom should i seek but thee my path my way
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and yet thou turn'st thy face away and fly'st me and yet i sue for grace and thou deny'st me speak art thou angry love or only try'st me
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dissolve thy sunbeams close thy wings and stay see see how i am blind and dead and stray -o thou art my life my light my way
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i go again to the sea and converse with ovid the poet whose lines of fortune and arteries my earth senses when he raises the dobruja's broad hand to his brow
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we shall not loiter long your friends and i living you made it goodlier to live dead you will make it easier to die
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final proof he was not handicapped by his handicap he married a deaf woman but his two daughters are normal i mean not deaf
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my stomach contracted: oh god what have i done it wasn't me asking discomfiting questions to hound this dear sweet ebullient man who had done his best
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it's here it's there it hovers begging hand out
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and on a hot dry day july they could all but burn at a certain age you try to pull all kinds of things out of the ground out of the loose gravel thrown by trains
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no no mr chinaski rondo form
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hey man i'll ask haven't you heard of the thirties
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the thirties what's that
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i got in the shower and burned my balls last wednesday
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they are subtle : they seem to float though they weigh me down upsetting me with their sudden tongues and their color a dozen red lead sinkers round my neck
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when we spurred you against wellington's infantry squares you side-ran them or reared back the god of catasrophes took note
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muir knew you on both shores and van der post knew you mufti lords recognizing a lord in service nuzzle them both
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where you linger for shade on the veldt branches level a tree is the only tree your water the only water
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flickers of hair along your neck's crest release the only signal which staggers from storm cloud to browse oats
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for your standing here re-ordains neither akhilleus nor cuchulain dew braids your mane with fresh constellations
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for that demigod's eye tiding capsizes anyone who would turn trainer and this one goes on into the bond
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and the top tamers spook-soothers the whisperers will write their books but miss the appointment it is not inscribed
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the unreached-for cup beaker for world-toxin breast englobing ground zero and so we know you not
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evening the priest let three rivers flow and a woman sing to her child
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and such for all that i foreknow may be the truth the deeper woe
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how then o weary one explain the sources of that hidden pain
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ii but now stand forth as sweet as life and let me paint you as a wife
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ode to weakness whatever i am the situation inside the marriage
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dull and insensible couldst see a thing so near a deity move up and down and feel no change
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the woman her womb solid with the future instructs her husband's eyes to clutch insurance policies
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they ignore my love affair with the furniture the corner table that memorized my crossed-out lines
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was our greatest scribe well hilda gave us a few pink grecian gods in with the chinaware but after reading her i still have icicles hanging from my bones
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dear dead women with such hair too we quote and notice that hair is the first of ourselves to decay before last after death
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i can't stand this which one of us do you love
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above the roof a windfucker smacked the air and wind kept eating the island rocks
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abelard and eloise henry the fowler charlemagne die die in pain
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my curls about her neck did crawl and arms and hands they did enthrall so that she could not freely stir
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what business have i to do that i know the world and i love it too much and it is not the one i'd find outside this door
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to hold back chaos i transformed amorphous mass and fire and cloud and golden structures form
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he had a wee tittie that lo'ed na me because i was twice as bonnie as she that werena my heart licht i wad dee
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the white peacock roosting might have been christ featherd robe of osiris
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and out of gratitude we imagine immortality for them snug as the burrow of a mouse
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and memory's wick draws the liquefied wax of experience up into flame
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strange how quiet they are with their presence so humble in the low song they sing not expecting that anyone will listen
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this gives us wings
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power i was the son of a king hacking the armor from the limbs of the dying
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the fire-flames crooned a tiny song no cold wind stirred the wintry tree beside their mother's knee
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meet you her my wishes bespeak her to my blisses and be ye call'd my absent kisses
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i wish her beauty that owes not all his duty to gaudy tire or glist'ring shoe-ty
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something more than taffeta or tissue can or rampant feather or rich fan
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more than the spoil of shop or silkworm's toil or a bought blush or a set smile
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a face that's best by its own beauty drest and can alone command the rest
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a face made up out of no other shop than what nature's white hand sets ope
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a cheek where youth and blood with pen of truth write what the reader sweetly ru'th
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a cheek where grows more than a morning rose which to no box his being owes
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lips where all day a lover's kiss may play yet carry nothing thence away
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looks that oppress their richest tires but dress and clothe their simplest nakedness
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eyes that displaces the neighbour diamond and outfaces that sunshine by their own sweet graces
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tresses that wear jewels but to declare how much themselves more precious are
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whose native ray can tame the wanton day of gems that in their bright shades play
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each ruby there or pearl that dare appear be its own blush be its own tear
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a well-tam'd heart for whose more noble smart love may be long choosing a dart
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eyes that bestow full quivers on love's bow yet pay less arrows than they owe
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smiles that can warm the blood yet teach a charm that chastity shall take no harm
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blushes that bin the burnish of no sin nor flames of aught too hot within
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joys that confess virtue their mistress and have no other head to dress
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fears fond and flight as the coy bride's when night first does the longing lover right
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tears quickly fled and vain as those are shed for a dying maidenhead
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days that need borrow no part of their good morrow from a forespent night of sorrow
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days that in spite of darkness by the light of a clear mind are day all night
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nights sweet as they made short by lovers' play yet long by th' absence of the day
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life that dares send a challenge to his end and when it comes say welcome friend
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sidneian showers of sweet discourse whose powers can crown old winter's head with flowers
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soft silken hours open suns shady bowers 'bove all nothing within that lours
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whate'er delight can make day's forehead bright or give down to the wings of night
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in her whole frame have nature all the name art and ornament the shame
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her flattery picture and poesy her counsel her own virtue be
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i wish her store of worth may leave her poor of wishes and i wish no more
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'tis she and here lo i unclothe and clear my wishes' cloudy character
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may she enjoy it whose merit dare apply it but modesty dares still deny it
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such worth as this is shall fix my flying wishes and determine them to kisses
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let her full glory my fancies fly before ye be ye my fictions but her story
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much suspected by me nothing proved can be quoth elizabeth prisoner
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thus for our guilt this jewel have we lost the earth his bones the heavens possess his ghost amen
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long ago this desert was an inland sea in the mountains you can still find shells
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