What stood will stand, though all be fallen
The good return that time has stolen
Though creatures groan in misery
Their flesh prefigures liberty
To end travail and bring to birth
Their new perfection in new earth
Let the trees of the woods all sing
And every field rejoice, let praise
Rise up out of the ground like grass
What stood, whole in every piecemeal
Thing that stood, will stand through all
Fall--field and woods and all in them
Rejoin the primal Sabbath's hymn
(1979, VI, p. 13)
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