The clean earth. And what will the pine cone do,
The skulls and kernels that the winter gathered—
What will they do—
We are having a late spring, we are having
The snow in April, the grass heaving
Under the wet snow, the grass
Burdened and nothing blossoms, grows
In the fields nothing and the garden fallow,
And now the wild birds follow
The wild birds and the thrush is tame.
Well, there is time still, there is time.
To-morrow there will be to-morrow
And summer swelling through the marrow
Of the cold trees.
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