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but live always dry Hope you harbor but hope is hopeless child Waiting and waiting for a ray of spring Your fathers father had foretold of a day Of rain wind and icy storms When burning suns shall hung high above And gelid Siberia unwilling to deform Johns seven and seven inhuman hosts Revealed but enigma unto perplexed Where are the daisies, the houries of delight Waiting and waiting for a day unconcealed.