Ah, JazzO'...those lines do break my heart in two. They are the richness, essential, listening, waking. Thank you, at least from this soul, for the best gift in looking toward the new year.

These, most of all, did pierce me to the core:

The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fevourless as I.

Best regards for a happy, happening, new year,
WW