  Some take comfort from a star, Thro' the slow grey surge of Time, Some take joy from ruddy war, Lust of conflict, heat of crime. In these days of codes and creeds, Gods may wander newly born, Every day for each man's needs Bringing blessings thro' the morn. I will take a happy word, Open heart and hand for play, And a song which none have heard For my altar of the day. |
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