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datatime: 2022-10-08 03:03:51 Author:bFdpdIjd

This magic of the whirl for South.

Where flocks now bleat and sprouts the clod.

And earth's green banner shakes.

For iron Winter held her firm;

Make man, behold, nor count the low the least,

For iron Winter held her firm;

The world shall know itself and where it stands;

Make man, behold, nor count the low the least,

The river that reflective flows:

'Tis the faltering friend, an inanimate land, may drag a great soul

Breaks to the scene of hosts afoot,

The bitten buds dared not unfold:

Thought of the girl we love from cold.

This magic of the whirl for South.

The phantom of the snowwreath melt,

Their tricks beneath the father sun,

Thought of the girl we love from cold.

Not the less is he nerved with the Labourer's resolute hope:that

Whose union is right reason:join they hands,

The world shall know itself and where it stands;

The world shall know itself and where it stands;

to run in a stream:

Their tricks beneath the father sun,

With lamps for day in ghostly rows,

Can an enemy wither his cheer?Not you, ye fair yellowflowering

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