So It Goes Poem by Gerald Massey
So It Goes
THE tender green that laughs out in the light,
And drinks the freshness of the dew and rain,
Must take the cloud of dust that turns it white
And burnish every tiny blade again!
The river into which heaven cometh down,
It is so exquisitely pure and still,
Must also soil itself to cleanse the town,
And with hard labour tread and turn the mill.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
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1/19/2026 9:36:58 PM # 1.0.0
