Page:On a grey thread (IA ongreythread00gidl).pdf/32

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Roots

O heavily weighing earth! O grim travail
In sunless silence with no hope of light!
O impotent wine! O bracken-food of pain!
I accept you all. I accept the timeless blight
Of crawling like a worm with unclean things,
Of being forever a yearning voiceless root
Bedded in this unwarmed oblivion
So that the great sun mellow my ultimate fruit.

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