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The Curse at Farewell
THE CURSE AT FAREWELL
KACH
Nectar from nectar was her milk! Her sight
Destroyed all sin—peaceful, most snowy- white,
Milk-charged, a mother-form! Oh, I aver,
Weariness, hunger, thirst, in care of her
I have forgot; with her long days have spent
Beside the river, fringed with waving bent.
Deep in the grove I lay; on the low bank
The lush, sweet grass, boundless, abund- ant, rank,
She cropped at will, then to the shade would go,
Her body with repletion drowsed and slow,
There couched in the deep grass to ruminate
The afternoon away. At whiles her great
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