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I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
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Monday, November 2, 2015
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
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Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
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Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
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Poor old lady, she swallowed a fly.
I don’t know why she swallowed a fly.
Poor old lady, I think she’ll die.
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I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
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So, we’ll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
Labels:
Poems
|
0
comments
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