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Streams | ||
| Forest streams have made their way Under boulders huge and square. Water likes to laugh and spray In the valley green and fair. Hikers rarely come to see Streams that ply in solitude. When they do, their reverie Must be mixed with gratitude. Life is short for mortal men, Not for timeless streams like these. They've a story we don't ken, Bathed in sunlight mysteries. | ||
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