Darker sleeps this dusky heaven heaps

 

love, song, the a-loves
lips not pour: time, but words
green o'er gaze, envying the
headlong by the deep; not
cloven are infant spectres

awake & the race inherit springs
till life, of fall, airs, sail; meet how
soon,- when - slow meet: its skies;
and words love's be,-

 

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