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So that not only did some kind of shutter flick open
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To live at all is to grieve;
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the soul speaks and the soul receives.
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Clouds slid their shadows
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So that nothing can be said for certain except
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Perhaps there is a moon shining
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I am standing in a sunlit meadow.
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Be; and at the same time know the state
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Vie with hot verities.
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sauntering out of the almost-