Laugh, heart, again in the gray twilight;

Out-worn heart, in a time out-worn,

Thy mother Eire is always young,

Coread.99csw.comme clear of the nets of wrong and right;

Come, heart, where hill is heaped upon hill,

And Time an九*九*藏*書d World are ever in flight,

Though hope fall from thee or love decay

For there the mystical brotherhood

And love is less kind than the gray twilight,

Burning in fires of a slanderouｒeａd•９９ｃsｗ.ｃｏms tongue.

And God stands winding his lonely horn;

And the changing moon work out their will.

And hope is less dear than th九_九_藏_書e dew of the morn.

Of hollow wood and the hilly wood

Sigh, heart, again in the dew of the morn.

Dew ever shining and twilight gray,