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 I KNEW them both upon Miranda's isle, 
Which is of youth a sea-bound seigniory: 
Misshapen Caliban, so seeming vile, 
And Ariel, proud prince of minstrelsy, 
Who did forsake the sunset for my tower 
And like a star above my slumber burned.
The night was held in silver chains by power Of melody, in which all longings yearned-- Star-grasping youth in one wild strain expressed, Tender as dawn, insistent as the tide; The heart of night and summer stood confessed.
I rose aglow and flung the lattice wide-- Ah, jest of art, what mockery and pang! Alack, it was poor Caliban who sang.

by Willa Cather
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