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Poem	I WOKE to find my pillow wet With the tears for deeds deep hid in sleep. I knew no sorrow here, but yet The tears fell softly through the deep. Your eyes, your other eyes of dream, Looked at me through the veil of blank; I saw their joyous, starlit gleam Like one who watches rank on rank. His victor airy legions wind And pass before his awful throne— Was there thy loving heart unkind, Was I thy captive all o’erthrown?
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