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Love Dream
The blue-gray ramparts of the storm
Flashing with signal fires of death,
Whilst with a murmur, far and wide,
Swept in the low wind with the tide.
Then, at last, when lips were dumb
With fear of parting, did we wend
Along the meadow lanes that come
From nowhere, and in nothing end,
And, smiling, kiss, though ill at ease,
Under the rustling orchard trees.
But will the promise given keep?
Can the heart love still when 'tis dead?
What if the spirit, waked from sleep,
Never recall the words it said?
Dwell in a dreamland, or else be
Lost in life's eternity?
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