Though through all times
and a few minds
be after ides a freshened pace,
we know not when
or really how
the sun will show anew sublime,
the flow'r of song
and wakened hour
gainsay and require a passion'd step.
past the poisoned,
and questions shown the dawn's cold glow
what grace will clear
Autumn face appear
and a milder climate show?
(Bad poetry courtesy of Adam's winter mind. Thanks for your patience)
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