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Mid the flower-wreathed tombs I stand / Bearing lilies in my hand. …
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Thou spark of life that wavest wings of gold, / Thou songless wanderer mid the songful birds, …
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“since cleopatra died!” Long years are past, / In Antony’s fancy, since the deed was done. …
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Now all the cloudy shapes that float and lie / Within this magic globe we call the brain …
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Softer than silence, stiller than still air / Float down from high pine-boughs the slender leaves. …
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Light of dim mornings; shield from heat and cold; / Balm for all ailments; substitute for praise; …