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Willow Pollen

WHITE PATHS

Reading edition

Here are white paths that gleam In the twilight space of dream; Here the winds turn in their sleep With the rocking of the deep; Here the golden song of thrush Is music’s sunlight, evening’s hush; Here the rustle of our prayer Climbs the forest altar stair; And here the stars burn in the sod— Peaceful candlelight for God.

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