The dream doth glide with crimson far away,
And fades that kiss in mornings yet unborn,
But I content me to share that fleeting day
Of blissful endlessness, a thing once worn.
Tetrameter Nineteen
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The dream doth glide with crimson far away,
And fades that kiss in mornings yet unborn,
But I content me to share that fleeting day
Of blissful endlessness, a thing once worn.
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