test/tests/contrib-gold/xsltc/mk/mk017.out

<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" ?><!--poem-->
<!--author within poem-->Rupert Brooke
<!--date within poem-->1912
<!--title within poem-->Song
<!--stanza within poem-->
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And suddenly the wind comes soft,
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And Spring is here again;
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And my heart with buds of pain.

<!--stanza within poem-->
<!--line within stanza within poem-->My heart all Winter lay so numb,
<!--line within stanza within poem-->The earth so dead and frore,
<!--line within stanza within poem-->That I never thought the Spring would come again
<!--line within stanza within poem-->Or my heart wake any more.

<!--stanza within poem-->
<!--line within stanza within poem-->But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And the small birds cry again;
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
<!--line within stanza within poem-->And my heart puts forth its pain.