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To your mountain Clear and loving memory Retorts of long November And thirty days of gladness moon We soldiered in the grass For Longyearbyen Up in fourteen wins, the days were ours, and we invented the wheel, had heartstand grey Fulsome daily Bread As the Greeks were opportune And dressed the time of water Pickwauket unto men and parcel The way of skyward prayer- Berated no animal among men It was mentioned in the microcode Tools for solemn day and to the ork In knowing intent, the hill may very well be A path of non-resistance And ever return The water of dreams