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O, my scouring eye
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I plant three seeds / As a spell. One
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The earth is a beautiful place.
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We’ll have to hurry. If we want to get started
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I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra. Boning-up in
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This poem
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Rilke ends his sonnet “Archaic Torso of Apollo” saying
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Darkly I gaze into the days ahead,
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the perfume / of the world in which
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I am a thing not new, I am as old
