| We Wove A Fillet For Thy Head |
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| Each Mote That Staggers Down The Sun |
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| Sonnets: III. And Yet Think Not That I Desire To Seal |
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| Into The Trembling Air |
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| Now The Sick Earth Revives, And In The Sun |
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| He Is A Priest |
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| Sonnets: V. O It Was Gay! The Wilderness Was Floral |
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| In Gardens When The Sun Is Set |
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| The Heavy Bee Burdened The Golden Clover |
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| Through Hissing Snow, Through Rain, Through Many Hundred Mays |
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