Mist
Dipped in mist , this mournful view
Since centuries there it all in haze
From mist we come in mist we go
With wistful eyes earth at us gaze
All sacred lamps that burnt and die
In seas on land by airy surge;
All songs of mirth wherest they go?
From every side we hear a dirge
In mist in fog, in woods in yard
They fade in far off far off dale
In dewy morn in birds they chirp
With leaves they float with windy gale
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