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datatime: 2022-11-28 14:06:08 Author:ETqZvoov

Earth has to fill her empty wells,

This magic of the whirl for South.

Who join with your lords to jar the chords of a bosom heroic, and

What cowering angel and what upright beast

Make man, behold, nor count the low the least,

The world shall know itself and where it stands;

The grasses one vast underhum.

Her shivering Spring feigned fast asleep,

And earth's green banner shakes.

As though they caught a broken clue;

Whose union is right reason:join they hands,

When they do meet, it is our earth inspired.

Ashine with the light of the doing of right:at the gates of the

The bitten buds dared not unfold:

Apparition is then of a monstertask, in a policy carving new

And there did fog down crypts of street

Sprung of the father blood, the mother brain,

'Tis the faltering friend, an inanimate land, may drag a great soul

But to vision alive under shallows of sight, lo, the Labourer's

The world shall know itself and where it stands;

to run in a stream:

swallow the passions,

Where flocks now bleat and sprouts the clod.

A sightless heaven, a shaven land.

Play spectre upon eye and mouth:

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