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As gentle tides go rolling by, |
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Along the salt sea strand |
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The colours blend and roll as one |
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Together in the sand. |
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And often do the winds entwine |
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Do send their distant call, |
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The quiet joys of brotherhood, |
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And love is lord of all. |
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The oak and weed together rise, |
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Along the common ground. |
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The mare and stallion light and dark |
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Have thunder in their sound. |
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The rainbow sign, the blended flower |
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Still have my heart in thrall. |
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The quiet joys of brotherhood, |
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And love is lord of all. |
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But man has come to plough the tide, |
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The oak lies on the ground. |
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I hear their tires in the fields, |
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They drive the stallion down. |
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The roses bleed both light and dark, |
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The winds do seldom call. |
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The running sands recall the time |
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When love was lord of all. |