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To your mountain
Clear and loving memory
Retorts of long November
And thirty days
of gladness moon
We soldiered in the grass
For Longyearbyen
Up in fourteen wins,
the days were ours,
and we invented the wheel,
had heartstand grey
Fulsome daily Bread
As the Greeks were opportune
And dressed the time of water
Pickwauket unto men and parcel
The way of skyward prayer-
Berated no animal among men
It was mentioned in the microcode
Tools for solemn day and to the ork
In knowing intent,
the hill may very well be
A path of non-resistance
And ever return
The water of dreams