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Do the lilies of the valley

ever stop and dally?

Or do they ever fret?

Break out in a sweat?

 

On a snow crusted morning

The world may be mourning

But maybe it’s best

to let the world rest

 

I cannot see

what’s ahead of me

walking towards sunrise

with an element of surprise

 

And so the night sleeps

and with it our sorrows

and brings the new light

of a joyful tomorrow

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