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O WHERE is our Mother of Peace

Nodding her purple hood?


For the winds that awakened the stars


Are blowing through my blood.

 

I would that the death-pale deer

Had come through the mountain side,

And trampled the mountain away,

And drunk up the murmuring tide.

For the winds that awakened the stars

Are blowing through my blood,

And our Mother of Peace has forgot me

Under her purple hood.


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