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In early misty meadows
closed eyes and whispers
quiet prayers which awake
wisdom of beauty never seen
frosted grass in its wake
covered by translucent dew
tempting blankets inviting
to swathe myself amongst
hearing thé happiest sounds
one ever could imagine by
an angel calling my name
through words of light and love
the breath of life so tender
surrounded securely by his
power a new day awakens
brighter and brighter the
overcoming rising sun
sings endless streams
of red glory