Mad March, with the wind in his wings wide-spread, Leaps from heaven, and the deep dawn`s arch Hails re-risen again from the dead Mad March. Soft small flames on rowan and larch Break forth as laughter on lips that said Nought till the pulse in them beat love`s march. But the heartbeat now in the lips rose-red Speaks life to the world, and the winds that parch Bring April forth as a bride to wed Mad March.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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