DAYS IN MY GARDEN 



that madness seems to reign ; unchecked its course, 

 it scorns control and, wildly rushing, shrieks in cruel 

 power, in savage play throws the mighty waves of 

 darkness on the blackness of the rocks, to break like 

 banks of blizzard snow in fractured whiteness, and, 

 howling on, heeds not their hissing scream as they 

 unite again, unbroken still, while w r e are left to 

 wonder ' whence it cometh, and whither it goeth.' 



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