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When despair grows in me
And I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound
In fear of what my life and my children's lives may be
I go and lie down where the wood drake
Rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds

I come into the peace of wild things
Who do not tax their lives with forethought
Of grief. I come into the presence of still water
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
Waiting with their light
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free

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