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When age fell |
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Upon the world, |
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And wonder went out of the minds of men; |
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When grey cities |
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Reared to smoky skies, |
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Tall towers grim and ugly, in these shadow none might |
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Dream of the sun or of Spring's flowering meads; |
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When learning stripped the Earth of her mantle |
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Of beauty and poets |
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Sang no more of twisted phantoms |
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Have seen |
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With bleared and |
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Inward looking eyes; |
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When these things had come to pass, |
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And childish hopes had gone forever, |
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There were a people who traveled out |
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Of life on a quest into spaces |
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Whither world's dreams had fled. |
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But those who has remained, were doomed to death. |
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After any years the world have sunk |
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In blood of the silly essences which have imagined by Gods. |
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And only those who, beyond, waking world and the tall cities, |
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A merging with the close air |
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And making him a part of their fabulous wonder. |