Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon

* * *

I am here, and you;
The sun blesses us through
Leaves made of light.
The air is in your hair;
You hold a flower.

O worlds, that roll through night,
O Time, O terrible year,
Where surges of fury and fear
Rave, to us you gave
This island--hour. 

1. The Dead to the Living
2. Now That I Have Won
3. Whitechapel High Road
4. Ah, Now This Happy Month Is Gone
5. Inheritance

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