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The Garden of Bright Waters

by E. Powys Mathers

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Kafiristan

Walking up a Hill at Dawn

Here is the wind in the morning;

The kind red face of God

Is looking over the hill

We are climbing.

To-morrow we are going to marry

And work and play together,

And laugh together at things

Which would not amuse our neighbours.

Song of Kafiristan.

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