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Tis not love’s going hurts my days,
- -
Edna St. Vincent Millay
0
No one but Night, with tears on her dark face, watches beside me in this windy place.
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
I know I am but summer to your heart,
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
TO what purpose, April, do you return again?
By Edna St. Vincent Millay
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