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Brief, on a flying night, |
From the shaken tower
A flock of bells take flight,
And go with the hour.
Like birds from the cote to the gales, |
A fleet of bells set sails,
And go to the dark.
Sudden the cold airs swing. |
A verse of bells takes wing
And flies with the cloud.
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Lane Core Jr. (email@example.com)
Created April 9, 2001; not revised.