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Reivax Camlost

There shines a silver in the air

about this winter homeland, where

the argent groves so nearly go—

whose airy hands, out-grasping know

the sky—to distance, far unseen,

blue peaks as rolling waves, and green,

that I could gaze and gazing weep!

And to return, breath's promise keep,

that I might know my land, my love;

dark lakes below, blue skies above. 

 

  • Author: Reivax Camlost (Offline Offline)
  • Published: December 9th, 2019 11:00
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 37
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