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Edwin Arlington Robinson - Boston
Work rating: Low

My northern pines are good enough for me,  
But there’s a town my memory uprears—  
A town that always like a friend appears,  
And always in the sunrise by the sea.  
And over it, somehow, there seems to be
A downward flash of something new and fierce,  
That ever strives to clear, but never clears  
The dimness of a charmed antiquity.
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