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By Donald Hall, Harvard Class of 1951

My mouse, my girl in grey, I speak to her:
One day in autumn I will wander through
A closed amusement park, past shacks that were
A moment since the palaces of rue
Where gaudy prizes hung along the stand
Seduced the quarter from no gambler’s hand.

And there will be the boarded House of Fun.
And leaves will tumble past the Whirl-O-Ride.
I will move on, content as anyone,
And then will see her walking to my side,
My mouse, my girl. She will not speak, but smile,
And we will walk together, for a while.

—Donald Hall

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