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STRAY BIRDS 147 dust of the dead words clings to thee.

Wash thy soul with silence. 148 are left in life through which comes the sad music of death. 149 world has opened its heart of light in the morning.

Come out, my heart, with thy love to meet it. 150 My thoughts shimmer with these shimmering leaves and my heart sings with the touch of this sunlight; my [45]