8888 

Led through the mist

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By the milk-light of moon,

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All that was lost, is revealed.

5 88888

Our long bygone burdens,

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Mere echoes of the spring,

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But where have we come,

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And where shall we end?

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If dreams can't come true,

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Then why not pretend?

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Oh how the gentle wind,

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Beckons through the leaves,

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As autumn colors fall.

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Dancing in a swirl,

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Of golden memories,

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The loveliest lies of all,