Ah, Celtic people, may you find peace with one another.
For winter's rains and ruins are over,
And all the seasons of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night what wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
and in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
~Swinburne~ .
sunshine, page-7
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