Vision |
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I have not walked on common ground, Nor drunk of earthly streams; A shining figure, mailed and crowned, Moves softly through my dreams.
He makes the air so keen and strange, The stars so fiercely bright; The rocks of time, the tides of change, Are nothing in his sight.
Death lays no shadow on his smile; Life is a race fore-run; Look in his face a little while, And life and death are one.
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