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Birds singing
in the dark
—Rainy dawn.
Children of the future Age,
Reading this indignant page;
Know that in a former time.
Love! sweet Love! was thought a crime.

In the Age of Gold,
Free from winters cold:
Youth and maiden bright.
To the holy light,
Naked in the sunny beams delight.

Once a youthful pair
Fill’d with softest care;
Met in garden bright.
Where the holy light,
Had just removed the curtains of the night.

There in rising day.
On the grass they play:
Parents were afar;
Strangers came not near:
And the maiden soon forgot her fear.

Tired with kisses sweet
They agree to meet
When the silent sleep
Waves o’er heavens deep:
And the weary tired wanderers weep.

To her father white
Came the maiden bright:
But his loving look,
Like the holy book,
All her tender limbs with terror shook

Ona! pale and weak!
To thy father speak:
O the trembling fear!
O the dismal care!
That shakes the blossoms of my hoary hair
It was a long time coming

And in the joining,

the consummation

Even then, in such sweet union

A sense

Of endings

And,  of course,

Of course

Beginnings.

The seeds of one born in the other



The paradox of this great truth embraced

I come to know that thus it is

And always was

For humankind

And we,

You and I

Are truly one in this.

— The End —