Travel well, Thomas Harlan VI

In western lands beneath the Sun the flowers may rise in Spring, the trees may bud, the waters run, the merry finches sing. Or there maybe ’tis cloudless night and swaying beeches bear the Elven-stars as jewels white amid their branching hair. Though here at journey’s end I lie in darkness buried deep, beyond all towers strong and high, beyond all mountains steep, above all shadows rides the Sun and Stars forever dwell: I will not say the Day is done, nor bid the Stars farewell.

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2 thoughts on “Travel well, Thomas Harlan VI”

    1. Long indeed.

      And heh. We didn’t hear that story specifically at the memorial service, but there were several people who did talk about their time in Morocco with Tom. (Burros and Mercedes were both involved.)

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