The Forest - Poem by William Morris
By woodman’s edge I faint and fail;
By craftsman’s edge I tell the tale.
High in the wood, high o’er the hall,
Aloft I rise when low I fall.
Unmoved I stand what wind may blow.
Swift, swift before the wind I go.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You