ay, you are like an ocean,
and though heavy grounded ships ah in your ,
yet spring, reposing s in order that you may say the one to the other,“he praised us ood in us.”
i only speak to you in ht.
and e but a shadoe?
your thoughts and my hts ht ive you of their reater than athering more of itself,
of your days.
it is life in quest of life in bodies that fear the grave.
there are no graves here.
these mountains and plains are a cradle and a stepping-stone.
hand in hand.
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