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 DARK head by the fireside brooding,
 Where upon your ears
Whirlwinds of the earth intruding
 Sound in wrath and tears:

Tender-hearted, in your lonely
 Sorrow I would fain
Comfort you, and say that only
 Gods could feel such pain.
Only spirits know such longing For the far away; And the fiery fancies thronging Rise not out of clay.
Keep the secret sense celestial Of the starry birth; Though about you call the bestial Voices of the earth.
If a thousand ages since Hurled us from the throne: Then a thousand ages wins Back again our own.
Sad one, dry away your tears: Mount again anew: In the great ancestral spheres Waits the throne for you.

by George William Russell
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