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Poem	And then the day came When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats, The evocation of Ruth “when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn.” I did not need to search for the meaning Of these words, For it was in me since childhood, I had only to recognize and to love it When it came back from the depths of my life. What could I take From the evasive maternal presence If not the feeling of exile and tears That clouded that gaze searching to find In things close by the place forever lost?
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