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There never was a mood of mine, Gay or heart-broken, luminous or dull, But you could ease me of its fever And give it back to me more beutiful. In many another soul I broke the bread, And drank the wine and played the happy guest, But I was lonely, I remembered you; The heart belong to him who knew it best.
Submitted by Venus
Sara Teasdale
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Monday, January 13, 2003 |
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