Midsummer Eve
Time, you timeless old mower of all that we men love most,
Are you indeed the Unknower, or a wisely garnering ghost?
On Midsummer Eve you are symbol of centuries carried like hay:
And all the year round you are nimble, fetching our spirits away
To the unknown land of death where you are a locked-out stranger . . .
O Time, you bringer of breath, you ever-unchanging changer!
Are you indeed the Unknower, or a wisely garnering ghost?
On Midsummer Eve you are symbol of centuries carried like hay:
And all the year round you are nimble, fetching our spirits away
To the unknown land of death where you are a locked-out stranger . . .
O Time, you bringer of breath, you ever-unchanging changer!
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