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Bring the Day


Bring the day
that fair unto us all shall be.
For all that fails and frets
upon these mortal shores
has visited.

Time . . .
which man
can only harness in a dream . . .
that runs beside his toil and labour
waiting not, nor giving favour,
 . . . blindly marches on.

Looking back . . .
far down that distant path
. . . reaching ‘cross the centuries.
We can stop . .
 . . . but time does not.

And in this mortal coil
of ours,
that bends and twists the fleeting hours
 . . . that subjugates the mindless rest we need.                              
Tho' filled with sadness and unrest
 . . . a turmoil-woven happiness . . .
yet fine . . .
as footsteps, lightly drawn,
along the midnight hour.


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