haec dies: ipsemet sonitus imago factum psallo

then I called my men to follow me
knowing well that the view was dim
though tired and worn, how they fought all morn'
as time was closing in
and my heart was sad though sore with pride
for brave lads all were they
as the angels fly, how they climbed so high
on the dawning of the day

                                                           -Mary Fahl

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