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Departure

 While the far farewell music thins and fails, 
And the broad bottoms rip the bearing brine - 
All smalling slowly to the gray sea line - 
And each significant red smoke-shaft pales, 

Keen sense of severance everywhere prevails, 
Which shapes the late long tramp of mounting men 
To seeming words that ask and ask again: 
"How long, O striving Teutons, Slavs, and Gaels 

Must your wroth reasonings trade on lives like these, 
That are as puppets in a playing hand? - 
When shall the saner softer polities 
Whereof we dream, have play in each proud land, 
And patriotism, grown Godlike, scorn to stand 
Bondslave to realms, but circle earth and seas?"

by Thomas Hardy
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