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could teach the shadows
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the impossibile replication of weight
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It is poor comfort that the mind comes, saying:
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staring me down, serene and pitiless
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The loud will take care of itself, and everyone will be able to say
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There’s no law that says
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real and imaginary (imaginary time must be
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until the cloud is pulled back
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This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.
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But in times past I fear’d vaine shades, and night,