Home ยป Ere the Coming Sun
Knelt by the stores were silvered yolks,
How ne light ne rust dropped in earn'st
As marched the hares knew tales breathed
Twas Venus shade give nimbled greeve,
How maned the opals drooped and swelled,
Now pants were beryls in liquid song!
Whose strings plucked as veins mined tofore,
Baned Euclase sunk magma ne cool dissolve,
As the penchant heaved its cut was laid;
As erode is time is shapes as fine is rare!
Asked then what price be all to give,
If ne not be none to cheer,
As silent groaned her unlikely shape,
This too gave cracks on Venus nape,
As all brothed and lack undo,
It was till then this gem would come.
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