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Weeds that tumble Bees that bumble Roads that run In heat and sun Winds that rumble Till all is done Lizards on tiptoe Move to and fro In dunes of sand Through hot dry land Where cactus grow And gold is panned The sun does rise Through cloudless skies An expanse of blue But each day so new Where an inca flies And dreams are true Rats with packs Leave tiny tracks And toads with horns Hide under thorns Till shadows wax Or movement warns Washes so dry They crack and sigh With leaves and brush Then fill and rush Both fast and high Then silence and hush Such awe is struck With awe and pluck The warm breeze blows Away thoughts of snows And hope and luck Are all that flows A mystic place Of silent chase Or quiet sound Or howls of hound Who run the race O’er soft sweet ground Smell blossom scent With subtle hint Both orange and lime To learn in time As all is meant Harsh and sublime Til eve does fall When the stars do call To the moon ahead And shimmers red In darkest pall Till light has fled |