The Ghosts of Yesteryear

Over seas and green-touched downs,

Deep in forests and starlit dells

Whisper softly haunted bells,

They touch you deeply with their knells,

In raucous laughter and girlish simper,

Cry trees fallen for their timber,

Listen close and listen well,

You may yet hear what mountains tell,

Of yesteryear and ages past,

Before our triumph ‘pon them crashed,

Lived the ageless, restless ghosts,

Of which this world does yet play host

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