BY THE BABE UNBORN
If trees were tall and grasses short, As in some crazy tale,If here and there a sea were blue Beyond the breaking pale,
If a fixed fire hung in the air To warm me one day through,If deep green hair grew on great hills, I know what I should do.
In dark I lie: dreaming that there Are great eyes cold or kind,And twisted streets and silent doors, And living men...
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