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Rondeau We will meet in Dorylaeum when The wars are done and we again Come home to wind and whispering oats Where hovering bee his pollen boasts. And after prayer when comes, Amen, When dark has husbanded the glen And fisher folk tie up their boats, We will meet in Dorylaeum. At dark when last life's ancient pen Leaves off its line and hushes men In lands quite near and lands remote, We will meet in Dorylaeum Carl Estrin