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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-12-25 | | Submited by Celina Matei
There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons, That oppresses like the weight Of cathedral tunes. Heavenly hurt it gives us; We can find no scar, But internal difference Where the meanings are. None may teach it anything 'Tis the seal, despair- An imperial affliction Sent us of the air...
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