Let us listen to the cold of all frosty morning mist, and taste the music of all sleepless woodland critters, who stand guard of life, till the merciful sun comes out, and start a life a new, in this great land, on this holy ground.
of all my life's dreams
and all my journeys I've found
never such a place of clear streams
and full of fairies sounds
dancing through the morning mist and blessing all diversion round, the holy oak and all clumsy girths, the loved shamrock and tragic daffodil
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