AND THEY LAUGHED

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By the mountain peak, called “Going-To-The-Sun,”
A dizzy mountain, where paths twist round and round
And nothing in sober order can be found—
I asked the poppies: “What fairies do you see?”
And they shook their long stems, and they laughed at me.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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