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Now by what whim of wanton chance Do radiant eyes know sombre days? And feet that shod in light should dance Walk weary and laborious ways? |
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But rays from Heaven, white and whole, May penetrate the gloom of earth; And tears but nourish, in your soul, The glory of celestial mirth. |
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The darts of toil and sorrow, sent Against your peaceful beauty, are As foolish and as impotent As winds that blow against a star. |