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WHAT NEED?
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What need, do you ask me? Each day
Hath a song and a prayer of its own,
As each June hath its crown of fresh roses, each May
    Its bright emerald throne!
Its own high thought each age shall stir,
Each needs its own interpreter!

And thou, O, my poet, sing on!
Sing on until love shall grow old;
Till patience and faith their last triumphs have won,
    And truth is a tale that is told!
Doubt not, thy song shall still be new
While life endures and God is true!