Chapter 12 No.12

Thou art the eye of this blind body of man,

The tongue of this dumb people; shalt thou not

See, shalt thou speak not for them?

Time is wan And hope is weak with waiting, and swift thought

Hath lost the wings at heel wherewith he ran,

And on the red pit's edge sits down distraught

To talk with death of days republican

And dreams

            
            

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