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Rating: 3.3
I bring ye wine from above,
From the vats of the storied sun;
For every one of yer love,
And life for every one.
Ye shall dance on hill and level;
Ye shall sing in hollow and height
In the festal mystical revel,
The rapurous Bacchanal rite!
The rocks and trees are yours,
And the waters under the hill,
By the might of that which endures,
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Tom Dunn 07 October 2020
What year was this written?
0 0 Reply
The Real Young God 17 July 2018
Disgusting, pathetic, cowardice
0 4 Reply
CrackDealer22 06 September 2019
Hey you're an edge lord and I bet you got no parents
0 0 Reply
Colleen Courtney 18 May 2014
Such a gorgeous ending to this poem. Simply lovely.
5 1 Reply
Jim Moralee 13 October 2008
most meaningful truths
6 23 Reply

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