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THE QUIET MISTS OF MORNING The elder lass walked out alone In the quiet mists of morning. The fields were black as the blackest stone and the springtime was a coming She dipped her hand into a stream In the quiet mists of morning. To look on how the elders leaned And the springtime were a coming She met a gently smiling man In the quiet mists of morning. He took her softly by the hand and the springtime were a flowering They lay them down in the birchwood glade In the quiet mists of morning. She were going to be no more a maid and the summertime were a coming He took her up and held her there In the quiet mists of morning. She were a bird he were a star And the summer were a blazing And when she thought to look at him In the quiet mists of morning. She held an oak tree in her hand And the winter snows were falling filename[ MISTMORN AS |
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