Chapter 66 No.66

O Mother of graciousness, we are coming to thee! When all the hills

are white with blossoms, we shall set forth, our eager hearts and

souls one great, glad longing for the sight of thee standing in the

archway, searching with earnest gaze the road, listening for the

bearers' footsteps as we mount the hillside.

We leave this place of

                         

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