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WHEN MY first early songs woke in my heart I thought they were the playmates of the morning flowers.

When they shook their wings and flew into the wilderness it seemed to me that they had the spirit of the summer which comes down with a sudden thunder roar to spend its all in laughter.

I thought that they had the mad call of the storm to rush and lose their way beyond the sunset land.

But now when in the evening light I see the blue line of the shore,

I know my songs are the boat that has brought me to the harbour across the wild sea.

 

 

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