The Prophetess speaks ...

... poetry from the margins, words from the mouth of the cave

For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.

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Go, litel bok, go, litel myn tragedye

The first man knew her not perfectly; and in like manner the last hath not traced her out.
For her thoughts are filled from the sea, and her counsels from the great deep.