Old Mornings Dawn by Summoning
The windy years have strewn down distant ways;
and in the halls still doth thy spirit sing
songs of old memory amid thy present tears,
or hope of days to come half sad with many fears.
Though along thy paths no longer runs
while war untimely takes thy many sons,
no tide of treason can thy glory drown
robed in sad majesty, the stars thy crown.
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