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Time of Glory | ||
| One by one the leaves are falling, Like the days that hurry on. Every one has its own calling, Then at once it must move on. Each leaf has its special moment When it's time to leave the tree. It may have new plans to foment As it mulches lazily. We, too, have a time of glory, Then at once our lamp is out. Let us hasten with our story To be ready for the shout. | ||
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