We
mark the days in many ways
With
births and deaths and holidays
Some
days grand and high
Others,
though, dark and low
O,
great turning wheel
Churning
and burning time
Milling
life into dust, just so
Slow,
will you slow in your toil?
Be
willing, please, grant us
Just
a trifling while longer
To
drink deeper, stronger
Oh,
a few more days to mark
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