XXVIII) The fields and forest now begin
The fields and forest now begin
Mute intercession for our sake,
And blossoms bust, that for our sin
Yearly propitiation make.
They neither grudge nor count the price,
But pitying they return to save
By their immortal sacrifice
Our mortal meanness from the grave.
To eyes and mind and heart they give
What al our wisdom would not buy;
Their life for us they yearly live,
And year by year for us they die.
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