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Forty-Two Poems

WE THAT WERE FRIENDS

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We that were friends to-night have found A sudden fear, a secret flame: I am on fire with that soft sound You make, in uttering my name.

Forgive a young and boastful man Whom dreams delight and passions please, And love me as great women can Who have no children at their knees.

Explore with AITake your curiosity a little further.

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