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christmas poems

es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
apenas ahora
una vez este césped suave
mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
el elevar, como el viento sopló
era una diosa ere el mármol me encontró
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
gloom

 



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